Chapter Ten
"Is this what family is like: the feeling that everyone's connected, that with one piece missing, the whole thing's broken?"
Trenton Lee Stewart
14th July, 1943...
"Rhaegar son of Andreas, do you accept the responsibilities and duties of an adult Volsunga?"
"I do, sir." Rhaegar intoned solemnly.
Everyone stood still watching this boy.
But not everyone was there. In fact his sisters were not.
Rhaegar stood still as he remembered his last conversation with his youngest sister.
She would be preparing for Hogwarts. The school Rhaegar had just left.
Athelinda… that was another story.
But he was on his own, now. And he had to steel himself- not for what happens next to him- but what may happen to the ones he loved- the girl he hadn't seen since he set her free, the sisters and brother he left behind...
Rhaegar stood silently as a wand was risen high in the air, followed by more wands. An incantation was murmured and beams of light radiated downwards towards him.
It was done. And as a searing pain settled upon his wrist he stood rigid, not daring to cry out. This was his decision- once he endured this- and only if he was strong enough to withstand the pain without crying out- he would join them.
The army.
September 1st 1943…
Athelinda watched as the first-years were escorted into the Great Hall. Their eyes were massive as they looked around, trying to take everything in at once.
She couldn't help but smile- and it was a genuine, kind smile, for once.
Among them, little Philomena walked on, gazing wide-eyed, speechless in awe at the ceiling, dotted with stars from the night sky.
The introductions were made.
The sorting hat was placed upon the stool.
It began to sing.
Some of the older students chuckled as they heard the song, but Athelinda wasn't listening. Her eyes were focused solely on her little sister.
She missed the girl- the one sibling she still felt close to.
The one sibling she would do anything to rush forwards and cuddle.
Afterwards the first of the names were called out.
"Abbott, Margaret!"
A blonde-haired little girl hopped up to the stool and the hat was placed on her head. Athelinda could barely breathe from excitement and nerves- what house would her sister be in? Would she get to see Philomena more, from then on?
"Hufflepuff!" The Sorting Hat shouted. The Hufflepuff table stood and cheered. Athelinda could glimpse Willamar grinning and clapping enthusiastically.
Her little sister… She could do so much better than that.
Willamar was weak. And wrong. He could not be allowed to influence her any more.
The next child, a boy named "Fletcherly, Stuart!" was called up. He was Gryffindor.
She refused to think about her eldest brother who would have warmly welcomed him.
He was no loss to her, now that he left Hogwarts.
It took ages.
Tom smiled at her.
"Your sister?" He asked, gesturing towards Philomena.
Athelinda smiled.
"Yes," she said simply. "The sister I'm proud of. She's a brilliant girl- meant for so much more."
She fell silent as the Hufflepuffs cheered "Ackerly, William!"
Finally it was Philomena's turn.
Athelinda gave her sister an encouraging nod.
The hat was silent.
Everyone started shifting impatiently and whispering. The teachers looked at one another.
Philomena was a hatstall, it appeared.
Athelinda shifted nervously and bit her lip. Tom reached out his hand and took hers. She welcomed the touch, and he rubbed his other hand on her arm.
"Everything will be fine," he said.
Finally the Sorting Hat
It took a while, but then it called out, "Ravenclaw!"
The Ravenclaw table instantly jumped to their feet and started cheering loudly.
There was a Ravenclaw in their family. Who knew?
A Gryffindor, a Hufflepuff, a Slytherin and finally a Ravenclaw- they must have been the only siblings to have been placed in different houses.
Dumbledore himself looked amused and pleasantly surprised.
The other staff smiled, they probably knew this girl was going to be as brilliant as her elder siblings.
The Ravenclaws, by the way they enthusiastically welcomed Philomena, probably knew that too.
Willamar sighed wistfully, but inwardly, he remembered Rhaegar had been worried that their youngest sister would be sorted into Slytherin- he had absolutely nothing against them, but he feared that Philomena would end up in their sister's- and Tom Riddle's- control.
He would have to go through great lengths to keep her out of their way- he could no longer deny that Athelinda was changed- and he was also starting to become very suspicious of Tom Riddle.
The school announced it was closing- and all of a sudden, Tom Riddle showed up with a 'culprit'?
Hagrid had one of the kindest hearts Willamar had ever known. There was no possible way that he could have orchestrated any of the attacks- which somehow stopped when Tom Riddle came forwards.
But it couldn't possibly be- Tom Riddle- heir of Slytherin? For all he knew a dark wizard snuck in and was cursing Muggle-born students.
It could be nothing more than a myth- but somehow, that belief was breaking in the students.
No monster had ever been found and yet… Hagrid could not have possibly been behind the attacks- no third-year student could have been.
The start-of-term feast progressed. Willamar grinned happily and to show his little sister that he was proud of her, and loved her.
"Tensions?" Someone asked beside him.
"Huh?" Willamar turned towards his closest friend.
Angus looked pityingly. "Will," he sighed. "I know how it is. Your sister- she's changed."
Willamar closed his eyes in humiliation.
"Will," Angus placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "She'll come back- she's family after all- she'll remember."
Willamar sighed. He wished he could be optimistic- but he didn't have to be a seer to know that something was about to get even worse.
Soon afterwards, the students were led away.
Willamar followed the usual routine for the first-years- after he introduced them to the Fat Friar who greeted them warmly.
His mood had brightened somewhat- before he came across a few students who reminded him of Feodora when they laughed.
She had the warmest, sweetest laugh.
He swallowed. He would not think of that- he spent the whole holidays thinking about her.
He focused on guiding the first-years.
Remove from your mind, he thought to himself. Remove utterly from your mind.
If only that was possible.
Miserably, he hoped Rhaegar was having a better time than him.
Athelinda seethed inwardly.
She didn't mind the awed and impressed stares of the new students as they gazed around, and the news that Tom had been made Head Boy certainly cheered her up- how Rhaegar would have loved that- Tom taking his place of influence- but Rhaegar had left the school, whereas she was still stuck making sure the first-years and any forgetful idiots knew where the bathrooms were and where the new passwords were placed.
She gritted her teeth. Two more years. Damn them. She loved this place, but this was a place for preparation- not battles fought and won, not achievements and glory gained, a place where students learned about the great sorcerers in books, instead of having their names and deeds recorded.
Where Athelinda would have to smile and simper sweetly to get her way from the teachers- where she would have to buy Slughorn his favourite crystallised pineapple and help him buy his potion ingredients.
But if Athelinda were to be honest with herself, she had to admit that she had been doing it for a very long time- as long as she could remember being at Hogwarts. She knew Griselda Penrose was the prefect before her, and it was unlikely that anyone would be taking her place before she left, but Athelinda dreamed of gaining influence- so she could set things right, of course- and if prefect was the way to gain it… well.
She didn't know why she had been so sulky when she received the responsibilities, nor why she was so uninterested and bored when she had to stick her nose in other people's business- now she was beginning to think better. She needed to do this- she didn't know what they were saying- and what if they were saying that could threaten her safety- or Tom's? All the insanity that went around after Slytherin's monster- she admitted she wished the monster would strike Slytherin's enemies, so they would know respect. But of course there was trouble- and the ministry was growing even more suspicious of them.
So when Hagrid was brought to the Headmaster and the heads of houses, she felt a tremendous relief. Lately, she had been annoyed by Hagrid- the responsibilities of being a prefect, she assumed. The enormous oaf had a habit of sneaking absurd creatures within the castle- even if Hagrid did not open the Chamber of Secrets, he did sneak a monster in, that threatened lives- expulsion was no less than he deserved. But she did feel relieved that the whole 'monster under Slytherin's command' issue was resolved when Tom caught Hagrid and brought him to the Headmaster. It was over, and she was thankful.
She spied a few students with prank materials and immediately went over to confiscate them- and warn them with Slughorn and their parents.
She smirked, feeling relieved and cheerful now that the monster thing was out of the way.
A few days later Willamar was striking a conversation with Alphard Black.
"So I take it your brother is now a cadet?" Alphard asked, one elegant eyebrow raised.
"Yes," Willamar said proudly. "Though I wish he were here," he said regretfully.
"Hmmph," Alphard responded. "Our new Head Boy... Rhaegar didn't seem to like him much."
"No," Willamar's face darkened. "Didn't you find it odd- the moment the news was announced- Tom Riddle came forwards bearing a 'culprit'? Someone he caught out of the blue, without long investigation?"
"Now that you mention it, yes." Alphard sighed. "But what can we do? I'm in his house, and I know how many friends he's got- and the teachers are all on his side."
Willamar scowled. "Except Dumbledore- only he seems to show any sense. And I don't think 'friends' is the correct word if you believe Rhaegar."
"You mean his 'followers'." Alphard looked grim. "They do tend to revolve rather suspiciously around him, don't they?"
"You're in his house," Willamar reasoned. "Did you ever see-"
"Nothing," Alphard said grimly. "Nothing at all."
There was nothing suspicious about Tom's sayings and doings- not even long ago.
"What about my sister?" Willamar asked. "We never spoke to each other during the break- she didn't even speak with Rhaegar."
Alphard frowned. "A family disagreement?"
Willamar laughed harshly. "To put it mildly."
Alphard sighed. Family disagreements were nothing new to him. He never liked his family. If he didn't have a conscience, he would denounce them in public as Pure-blood Supremacists and supporters of Grindelwald. They were his family after all.
"She goes about as usual- does her duties, fawns and helps the teachers, and behind their backs is unbelievably harsh to those she doesn't like- and she has a large group of followers herself now- even though she mocks them sometimes, they seem to like it. They're now openly going out- her and Riddle." He laughed. "I never thought I'd see either of them as lovebirds."
Willamar grunted, but inwardly he felt a terrible sinking feeling. Oh, no.
"They're attracting a large crowd together," Alphard said, confirming his worst fears.
"Right," Willamar sighed. "I know you're not in her house- but you are in theirs, so I'll play my part, but I need you to help me- with a favour?"
"What favour?" Alphard sounded puzzled.
"My sister," Willamar explained. "My youngest sister- Philomena. She's in Ravenclaw, but as you're in Athelinda's and Riddle's house, can you please make sure they don't do anything to get her into their influence- we don't need either of them to have any more followers, certainly, not my youngest sister. She deserves to grow in the light, in a place of her own."
Alphard nodded. "I understand."
"Thank you," Willamar said softly. "I can't thank you enough." His face was full of sorrow. "She's changed- I've lost so much."
He closed his eyes and there was an image of a brown-haired burning girl.
The term progressed, and true to everyone's predictions, Philomena proved to be as exceedingly brilliant- outstanding actually- as her brothers and sister.
The teachers were awed and impressed- as were the other pupils who were beginning to go to her for help. Ravenclaw was proud- the most academically-brilliant house now had one of them for their own.
But Willamar and Athelinda's relationship deteriorated, if it didn't break down completely.
Willamar always showed up when Athelinda tried to make an approach towards her youngest sister, and either took her away or stayed glued to her side as Athelinda spoke to her- she couldn't do or say anything to Philomena without Willamar being there.
It enraged her even further- that he would consider her a threat to their little sister- as if Athelinda would ever harm her, or tell her to do anything stupid- that he might even be saying to her things about Athelinda behind the latter's back.
And no doubt he was writing to Rhaegar.
She was starting to hate him.
And there were news that Grindelwald may be in retreat- there was a victory won by the Volsunga clan- including their father. Everyone cheered happily, and hugged each other- surely this would mean the end of the war.
But they celebrated too early.
The term went on. The three siblings achieved record-breaking marks- like their eldest brother- as usual. Their parents sent them their love, but Athelinda was beginning to grow bored with the letters her parents were sending her- telling her they loved her all the time, as if she didn't knew that, and the sweets, cakes and parcels of clothing. Athelinda wanted something more- she wanted to achieve those things herself.
She wanted to get out of Hogwarts.
Not that she ever wanted to leave without coming back, but she wanted to live. And not in another's shadow.
Her brother had been accepted into the Armed Forces. He was being promoted so quickly Athelinda could not even keep track, even if she bothered to try.
She couldn't even remember when he was in training.
Now he was in a position of command- but when she heard what Willamar said to Philomena, about Rhaegar being too critical about their recent victory, Athelinda gritted her teeth. Willamar said that the other military leaders were happy, but Rhaegar felt it was too easy- or too cleverly-planned out to seem like a good victory.
He was right.
It was an 'elastic band' strategy, as the Muggles would have said.
The Christmas holidays were just beginning.
No senior military personnel took Rhaegar seriously because the boy was freshly out of school- what experienced, hardened military commander would take his advice into account when everyone else said different?
But yes, one had to be critical.
21st December 1943...
Athelinda stood frozen in shock- only this time, it was the sight that greeted her eyes as she looked at the house.
She had arrived... to find this.
The house had been empty- her mother had gone.
Until a patronus appeared out of nowhere.
It was a fox- her mother's.
The fox opened her mouth.
"Athelinda!" her mother's voice. "Leave this place- make for Glasgow- use the portal we used last time, to go to the Kataris Acropolis from there- Philomena and Willamar have been given the message. I am already in Kataris for your father's meetings, but they've blocked all the portals, and any form of transportation- even the portkeys. They wouldn't let me get home to get the three of you," her voice rose in frustration and panic. "You must go! Grindelwald's forces are invading Britain- your brother was right! It was nothing more than a distraction. Get to your siblings and get out of there!"
Athelinda stood still in shock while the patronus disappeared.
She turned around and screamed, "Willamar! Philomena!" She ran out of the manor.
But the sight she saw horrified her to the core.
There were people screaming in the distance. Willamar and Philomena were nowhere to be seen.
Explosions went forth in the distance. Athelinda's eyes widened and she ran into the manor before the foreign wizards could zoom close enough, as they dropped explosives in lines everywhere they went in the air.
But she had to run out again. Her siblings were nowhere to be seen, even though she screamed throughout the empty rooms and echoes of her house.
They were in trouble.
Her heart pounding fanatically, her mind racing, she drew out her wand. "Willamar!" She screamed again. "Philomena!"
Where were those two?
The last she saw they were in the nearest settlement buying sweets or what-not. She had returned without them, but they promised they would be back by now.
"Willamar!" She screamed again. "Philomena!" Even their dear House-Elf was gone.
She was alone.
Her eyes grew massive as she spotted an air-ship coming this way.
It readied to launch magical explosives- more powerful than any Muggle ones- from the air.
Athelinda ran inside the manor.
Praying that they got the message and somehow would make it safely to Glasgow together- and from there to Kataris, the Atlantean Volsunga City- she wasted no more time.
There was nothing she could do now.
She instantly went to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and all but leapt into it. She threw the powder down instantly before she screamed "Glasgow Portal station!"
The flames leapt up, emerald and bright. She felt herself being pulled away.
But the floo-network must have been closed down, because Athelinda felt herself being thrown out of a fireplace before she knew it.
She landed on the floor on her front with a loud thump.
This was not Glasgow.
She stood straight.
Where was she?
The answer was London.
She recognized the city.
This was not good.
Athelinda immediately ran out the deserted shop she was in.
She ran as fast as she could.
But then she spotted various peoples running out of their houses. Many of them held small children, bundled hastily and crying, clutching a favourite teddy bear or doll.
Everyone was panicking. Adults were yelling at each other and gesticulating madly.
They were all running.
She grabbed the shoulder of a man.
"What's happening?" She cried out.
The man looked at her incredulously.
"Grindelwald has landed- he's invading."
Athelinda's eyes widened.
She had to get out of there.
"Please," she whispered. "Do you know how to get to Glasgow?"
The man shook his head. "I'm sorry."
They parted ways. Grindelwald's invasion must have been enough for the whole city to be evacuated.
Athelinda ran desperately through the streets when she was stopped all of a sudden.
There were screams coming from her left.
Men clad in black arrived. Many of them wore wizard-armour- a mixture of battle-robes and body-armour. Masks covered their faces. She knew who they were.
Grindelwald's army had already arrived.
One of the soldiers shot a jet of green light, and it landed upon a running man who fell forwards, dead.
She drew her own wand.
She would not die this way.
If there was no escape- well, she would escape. But if there was none, she would fight.
A mother screamed, trying to shield her children.
This she would not accept.
Athelinda shot a jet of red light- a hex- towards the attacking soldier.
He crumpled.
The mother looked at her with wide eyes, as did her children. "Go!" She shouted.
They wasted no time.
Unfortunately it drew the attentions of other soldiers.
She readied herself.
Her form was perfect- she was ready.
They wasted no time.
Jets of spells exploded from their wands, either to be blocked, dodged or counterattacked upon, by Athelinda.
She might not have won against Rhaegar but she would not lose against them.
She fought like an angel, or so some later said.
Soon four went down.
The others doubled their efforts.
She shielded herself- cast spells towards them, didn't even stop to watch them go down. Dozens of them arrived, but they did not deter her.
She cast spells that would take several out at a time- even if only for distraction, such as Aqua Eructo.
She blocked a fire-spell. She caused a house to crumble and its stones to fall upon the soldiers.
One of them shot more fire- she blocked using a source of water which she sprung up and threw at them. Others were starting to stare. But Athelinda was too busy to tell them to get out of there.
More soldiers came- only to decide that she wasn't worth the effort and went running.
Athelinda stood still. But she knew they didn't have long.
She looked at the spectators.
"Go!" She barked at them.
They took off running.
She had to get out of there.
It was a pity she couldn't apparate yet.
And she wasn't mad to attempt a broomstick.
Grindelwald must have found a way to get his main forces to arrive by sea.
But before she could run further, a jet of light crossed her path and exploded the wall next to her.
She halted immediately.
A soldier to her right.
She steeled herself. But before either of them could do anything, a jet of light shot out and hit the soldier, taking him unawares.
He crumpled. Athelinda turned wildly.
A tall figure emerged- a young one, though.
It was Tom.
"Athelinda," he breathed.
His eyes were wide and feverishly brilliant. Almost as if he were emotional.
Athelinda didn't know what to think.
Before thinking, he had opened his arms and she launched herself at him.
And if Rhaegar had seen, nothing would have stopped him from performing an Unforgivable Curse on Riddle.
But Athelinda didn't care. She had no one else. Neither did he.
They were alone.
Only God knew where her family were.
She felt so alone- and she was.
She was with him now.
She could not help but feel everything was alright.
"Are you alright?" He asked breathlessly, desperately.
"How did you find me?" She was in disbelief.
Tom blinked. "Some people claimed to have seen a girl fighting Grindelwald's soldiers- someone who matched your description. I came as quick as I could." His face steeled. "We have to get out of here."
"My family's gone," Athelinda said. She swallowed. Desperately praying that nothing bad had happened to them, she continued, "They're all in the Acropolis of Kataris- the Volsunga City. Except for Philomena and Willamar. I can't find them- they were in the town but they didn't get home."
Tom's eyes hardened. "You can't wait for them. We need to go, now!"
He grabbed her wrist and dragged her as they both ran.
"We're going north," he said. "There's a cottage there, by the sea. They won't get to us."
"Are you sure?" She asked sceptically. Grindelwald's forces was likely to have arrived by sea, considering the number.
"I'm certain," Tom said. "The Fidelius Charm."
She was startled. "Who's the Secret Keeper?"
He looked at her. "Me."
They disapparated.
The cottage was a lovely place, Athelinda had to admit. Charming, though simple and rustic. It certainly had none of the opulence and grandeur of her manor or the Slytherin Common Room and dormitories, but she liked it.
It was a half-timbered cottage with a thatched straw roof. The windows were wide and charming. she would have taken it, even if it were a shack. Inside was clean- which she was absurdly grateful for- comfortable and warm.
A fire burned in the living room, there was a sofa- it didn't look new but it was in good condition and clean and comfortably-soft, a coffee table, a small table in the dining room with plate4s, mugs and eating utensils stacked neatly on top, two chairs, as well as a kitchen with a clean stove, oven, pantry, sink and cabinets.
She turned to Tom. "I thought you said you lived in an orphanage?" She raised her brows.
"I do," Tom said simply. "But they kick you out once you're eighteen- I started looking for some place to live when I came of age in our world. The Muggles don't really care a whit about the futures of the children they're keeping- they're not family."
She didn't think so, she thought. Tom never really had a family. Her heart ached for him- but she would never show pity- Tom would never accept that any more than she would.
He told her his maternal family were wizards- so his mother was a witch. But on the other hand, despite coming from a line of pure-bloods that stretched back for nearly a thousand years, their wealth had been squandered due to a lack of common sense and a liking for grandeur. They loved in poverty for so long, until when his mother fell in love with a wealthy Muggle aristocrat. They eloped but he left her when he discovered she was a witch. She'd been pregnant then, desperate and starving, she ended up on the doorstep of a Muggle orphanage on New Year's Eve 1926 and died giving birth to Tom whom she left in the Muggles' care.
It wasn't a bad place, but it wasn't a place Athelinda would want her child to grow up in. There was a strong lack of family and love in that place, although the children were reasonably cared for. He had no friends. Strange things happened around him so the other children, and even his caretakers were afraid of him.
Until he came to Hogwarts, he had no home.
Athelinda thought of her home. How it was home, but never really felt like it. She was Atlantean. She could not forget that- not a native Briton. Everyone else never forgot it. It was as if she never completely belonged. No matter Arthur and Merlin.
Athelinda turned towards Tom. She tried to smile, but found she couldn't. He'd lost his family. It was not something she would wish on anyone. Not even those she held in contempt.
Her heart tore for him- despite all he had done- and he had accomplished so much- he had nothing and no one.
She tried to swallow.
What she said to Rhaegar... to Willamar... How she wished she had never said it. How she wished she could take everything back as if she had never spoken them. How she wished she had never crossed the most unforgivable of lines.
What if she lost them? What if she never saw them again?
There was no way she could ever get to Glasgow now- not to its portal. She could never meet up with her family in Kataris, if Grindelwald's forces had truly invaded.
She took a deep breath, keeping it all in.
"My snakes?" She asked. She kept her voice firm. "They're at the house, I can't just leave..." her throat tightened.
Tom nodded. He gestured towards several urns in a corner. Athelinda's heart leapt to her throat. She slowly approached and with trembling hands she lifted one of the lids.
Several heads poked and slithered out. Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't sob. she held her composure and breathed deeply. The snakes slithered and coiled around her, climbing up her arms and nuzzling her, as their way of embrace.
She took several breaths and turned to Tom. "Thank you." She said. She was almost shaking. If she had lost her friends... "How did you-"
"I was afraid for you," he admitted. "I went to your manor. I ran around, I used magic to reveal the presence of your little friends. I explained things to them and they got me to take them here when they heard me promise to try and find you."
She rose. "Thank you." She nodded, and Tom held out his arms. She stepped into them, but slowly. She never lost her composure. She was unpredictable though.
Tom admired her for that. She didn't burst out wailing, despite what happened, didn't show her panic. He never could stomach the small ones' wailing in the orphanage...
"So," he said softly. he pulled her into an embrace. There was strong warmth and something else inside of him. Something he wasn't sure he would be able to accept, but knew that he would never be able to go without her. "I'll take care of you. When the opportunity comes up, I'll take you to Glasgow and to Kataris. I promise, I will never let any of them touch you... And I keep my promises."
They stayed like that for a while. Athelinda felt the softness of the linen beneath her cheek and the warmth of his toned body. He was strong and calm. She wished she had said and done better to her siblings and parents. She had no idea how priceless every minute was with them... Now all she had was Tom. She wasn't sure she would see any of them again.
They pulled each other tighter before Athelinda pulled away. Tom looked confused, puzzled. But she was turned away and he didn't see.
"Thank you for saving me," she said sounding oddly formal. "I'll do my best around here, I won't be too much of a burden. Won't the Muggle orphanage expect you back? I mean if you're underage in their world-"
He shook his head. Unbeknownst to her, he had secretly modified their memories. There had never been a Tom Riddle at the orphanage at any point in time. Not ever.
This was the first step of the journey. The one he would undertake to transform first his life and identity, then his future and the world.
He had not counted upon her being a part of it, in the way that she was starting to become.
But there was no other possibility- not for him.
The two of them had tea, and Tom showed her where she would sleep.
She protested when he showed her the room he had up there. It was his.
But he insisted. He would take the couch, he said, a mischievous gleam in his eye.
So the two of them settled in. There were numerous wards around the cottage, and there appeared to be no weakness in the barriers. Athelinda lit a fire in the living room. She made dinner with Tom, she set the table and they ate at first in silence, and then he started to talk, to break the ice a little and diffuse the tension.
Eventually the conversation became easy and relaxed. They never discussed silly things- it always filled them with disgust despite tolerating such things when conversing with others. But they were calm and happy, although they didn't laugh madly or get drunk, there were no pretences, no unpleasantness. The meals he had eaten alone for necessary sustenance to ease his irritating hunger were forgotten. He actually enjoyed this. Enjoyed talking with her, enjoyed seeing her smile, enjoyed hearing her laugh, though like him, she didn't do it frequently. He found her company, not only pleasant in a way he never found anyone else's- always secretly preferring to be alone- but he felt warm and happy in a way he had never been before in all his years of living and breathing.
At some point, his eyes fixed upon her and he smiled. Without knowing it, she realised too late when his hand clasped hers. Her stomach felt strangely fluttery.
She smiled. She rose and collected the dishes, he tried to protest but she didn't even say anything, barely sparing him a glance which diffused any argument.
They settled down on the sofa.
The fire flickered and danced. The snakes coiled themselves at the feet of the sofa, basking in the warmth of the fire and the softness of the rug.
It was so quiet. So peaceful. She had a cup of tea in her hand, soothing chamomile, and he had elf-made wine in a glass. There was a book on ancient magical practices and traditions, but she didn't read. They just stood there, staring at the fire, and the twigs which crackled and snapped, watching its glow and the logs illuminate in its recesses. Their wands rested on the tea table nearby.
She didn't want to break the peace. She still feared for her family- especially her siblings Willamar and Philomena. But she was determined not to waste or embitter this moment with Tom, a boy who had become so strangely, and yet so understandably important in her life.
Now he was her family. She realised, belatedly and feeling fragile, just how important family was. How she ceased to function without them.
She wondered what he must have gone through on his own.
And Tom's hand subconsciously found hers and they held each other's, watching the firelight. Everything was calm and quiet, none of them said a word. But there was warmth and light and each other. Strangely, for Tom Riddle, it might be enough.
So this was what it meant to have someone, he reflected. Someone in a true sense. In truth Tom didn't really want to take her back to her family, even if it meant going to the Great Library there and finding secrets about powerful magic which he had actually intended to, and still did.
He wondered if he had gained something more valuable. And yet...
The fear of death needed to be quenched and his desire for power needed to be satisfied. The road he was going might just ease both as well as gaining her.
It might just work.
He must play his cards right.
They went to bed that night, and Tom settled down on the sofa. He didn't mind. He felt warm and safe and content the way he had never been before in his life. He felt happy and comfortable.
How absurdly strange, his lips twisted. How... He scowled but before he could think further, Athelinda appeared from above.
She smiled at him. He frowned.
"Yes?" He asked.
"Why don't you come upstairs?" She asked. Her delicate hand rested upon the bannister.
He blinked. "But I-"
She shook her head. "This is your house. You've saved my life. You're more than you imagine and I can't let you sleep down there. Come upstairs. It will be alright."
And thus saying she descended, in a white nightgown and dressing gown and took his hand, gently pulling him up. Her black eyes glinted. He was puzzled and tried to work this out.
"You might as well come," she said. "It's better than sleeping down here."
She pulled him up the stairs.
They entered the bedroom, and it was a good thing Tom managed to salvage a double four-poster bed from the Shrieking Shack. The bed was in surprisingly good condition, a few repairs and a clean-up were all that was needed, and new sheets, mattress, pillows and eiderdown and counterpane. Athelinda led him into the bedroom and smiled, drawing back the covers and settling herself down.
He told himself not to be foolish. She was inviting him to sleep in the bed. It was kindness on her part- she thought to repay his.
Tom ignored everything else which was going on and settled down, she drew the covers around them, without even saying an incantation, the curtains closed.
Tom felt peace, and something else, which he did not care to find out. He was stronger than that. But he thought it would be beneficial, but it was so much more.
Together they closed their eyes and slept through the night.
In Kataris the next day...
"Where is she?" Katerina wailed.
Absurdly, her younger son and daughter had made it.
Willamar stood as the Muggles would say, shell-shocked (metaphorically) and Philomena was pale as a ghost. They never made it to her. They had gotten the patronus, and Willamar- being of age- apparated them both to Glasgow and to the portal. He had been assured- and thus assured himself and his little sister- that their sister was resourceful enough to get to Glasgow and Kataris without his help. Knowing her, that was what they all thought.
"Where did you last see her?" Rhaegar demanded, shaking in rage. He glared at his mother, even though he knew there was little time and chance that a single patronus would have been able to find all of them at the same time.
He felt a pit open up at the bottom of his stomach.
The very thought made him sick with dread. With horror. With pure fear and terror.
Athelinda. No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't be.
Not her. Never her. Never unconquerable, resourceful, cunning Athelinda. Never. Not her. The black pit opened ip wider and deeper. Not her. Never her. Not his sister.
His precious, beloved sister.
Leaving behind a lifetime full of regrets and memories, and wasted life.
Why? Why did he do it? What was wrong with him? What did he say?
Why did he have to say those things? She was his sister. And now she might be lost.
He didn't know what to do.
Athelinda opened her eyes. Daylight filtered through the curtains. She remembered where she was.
She sat up. Tom was no where to be seen. She smiled, warmth and affection colouring her. She readied herself to get out of bed, before something floated in front of her. It was a lap-tray with breakfast, toast, a rasher of bacon, marmalade and butter, poached eggs and a pot of tea with teacup and saucer. She laughed softly, shaking her head.
She ate, then went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. There were toiletries for her. She wondered if Tom had been planning this for quite some time. This place was strangely well-equipped to suit her needs.
She showered and dressed. She went downstairs to find Tom reading a newspaper.
He smiled when she walked in and she responded in turn.
"What's the news?" She asked as he placed the paper in front of her.
The Daily Prophet was trying her. It reported nothing of interest.
"Don't worry," Tom said. "They'd never take London- which means they'll never take the country."
"How can you be sure?" She asked sceptically.
"Because," he replied. "Albus Dumbledore is there."
She looked up sharply. "What does this have to do with anything?"
"Didn't anybody ever tell you?" Tom asked quietly. "Dumbledore and Grindelwald used to be friends." She stared at him. "That was a very long time ago. And I do not think that the Transfiguration teacher we know today was the young man who befriended Bathilda Bagshot's nephew, who coincidentally, can never be the Dark Lord we all know and fear today."
She stared. "Is this some kind of a joke?" She asked.
"No joke, I tell you," he shook his head. "They were friends. But Dumbledore was obviously betrayed. Grindelwald fled the country- something about murdering a young girl, I can never get the full details. And they haven't been in contact since."
She stood there in silence for a long while. "Why should that stop him?" She finally said.
"Because the two of them happen to be the most skilled wizards of their age," Tom said calmly. "But I believe, and with good reason and reports, that Dumbledore might be more skilled, if only slightly. Grindelwald too, I believe, knows this. He won't risk a direct attack or a confrontation with his former friend, even if it means not being able to deploy the greatest amount of his strength to invade and successfully conquer Britain. Grindelwald is too cowardly to part with the bulk of his armies. He needs them.
"But I may believe that he is occupied with something else at the moment."
"More invasion plans?" Athelinda asked. "What this time? America?"
"One can never be too certain," Tom said.
He drank his coffee in silence.
"And Hogwarts?" Athelinda asked. "Considering that Dumbledore works and protects the castle, I assume, if what you say is true, that Grindelwald would not think about attacking the place unless Dumbledore is gone and the country conquered?"
"Yes," Tom replied simply.
The snakes slithered out of their urns. She knelt down and they climbed on, coiling and twining themselves around her. Her eyes glinted, this time, dangerously as Tom bent down and also gathered some of the snakes to him.
"They will not succeed," Athelinda said icily. "They will never succeed. For once, Rhaegar's knowledge and skill may be useful. He'd better prove he had learned something, or else, there is no point in a clan, or an army's might."
"Yes," Tom said.
The two spent the next two days in peace. Athelinda cleaned the house, despite it already been cleaned. She went outside and planted a herb and vegetable garden, so that when spring came, if she was still there unable to go anywhere, they could at least have a supply of food, without being dependant on anybody.
She even re-checked, with Tom, their supply of water. He stocked up on firewood. It was Christmas Eve now. And she had no family.
She felt as if something had been torn out of her, as if a limb had been severed. She swallowed. She felt as if her heart had been torn out. She felt as if, everything was dragging her down into despair.
She would never get a chance to tell them how sorry she was. There was no chance she could go to Glasgow with everything going around, dark wizards roaming the country and the Floo Network shut down. Even portkeys were too risky. The portal would have been closed by now.
She contained the tears in her eyes. There was no chance of telling them how sorry she felt. No chance to make it right. She busied herself, gathering fallen branches from the snow-covered ground, and arranging them together with a sticking charm into a Christmas tree. Athelinda made various coloured streamers- mostly red, gold, silver and green- Christmas colours and Slytherin's- shoot out of her wand and drape themselves artistically around the dead branches. She fashioned more ornaments, using a mixture of magic and scavenged things such as metal, including a star. She enchanted the metal star, and turned it gold and glittering with clear lights. She placed it atop the tree. Athelinda smiled.
She'd gotten something for Tom before they even left. She'd wrapped it, and placed it at the foot of their pathetic tree. But it was so covered, so tastefully decorated that it actually looked pretty.
She lit the candles and even made Christmas Dinner. She even decorated the place with holly.
How she wished she could do it for her little sister. To hang the stockings up, just like they used to, to make the baubles shine.
To hear her brothers' voices once more.
Were they still alive? She choked. She believed so. She hoped so. But in truth she was not certain, and she shook to remember the last moments she spent with Rhaegar and Willamar.
How did it come to that? Athelinda thought desperately. She remembered their last Christmas before the war began. Philomena hung the stockings. Willamar and Winny discussed the merits of a fine pudding without brandy flavouring, her Rhaegar putting up the Christmas tree with their father and her mother wrapping up all their presents that they wanted to give away. She remembered her and Rhaegar tearing open wrapping paper with their little sister, their father guffawing at Willamar's joke with a glass of eggnog in hand, while Willamar animatedly described the time he placed the wrong ingredient in a potion he made with Athelinda- to disastrously hilarious results. She remembered her mother admonishing Winny for not joining in the fun and relaxing at Christmas, as she was a part of the family, and her snakes slithering out after dark, for Athelinda to secretly slip them the tastiest morsels and leftovers for their own feast.
She took a deep breath and tried to restrain the tears angry at herself.
How could she have let such a thing happen?!
How could she have ever persuaded herself to turn against the ones she loved limitlessly, who loved her the same way, no matter what?
How could she have ever wanted to hurt any of them.
She sniffed, as she angrily fastened the decorations tighter than necessary. Athelinda rose.
She needed to check the pudding for tomorrow night. Pudding that she would share with Tom.
She sniffled and wished with all her soul, heart and every fibre in her body that she would be able to see them again, even if she had to beg to make amends.
But in the meantime, Athelinda would give Tom the Christmas he never had. And someone to share it with.
She didn't want to waste anything.
"What's this?"
Tom sounded surprised when he arrived back, from his 'errand'.
She smiled. "You've never had a Christmas, have you?"
He blinked. "With family?" She pressed. "And people that really do care, no matter their own wants and needs?"
He was shocked.
Normally he wouldn't have given a bowtruckle's thought about Christmas. He scorned the silly behaviour of his housemates, was secretly enraged when they broke the school rules and slyly replied that surely he would not have turned them in during Christmas. Christmas was when the orphans sniffled and got cold, and Mrs Cole and her helpers imbibing more gin than usual while stern-looking parents dropped off parcels of mouldy, moth-eaten, ugly old sweaters or faded, half-broken toys while their snotty-nosed children screamed at the top of their lungs saying they wanted their pudding and presents, now!
He normally wouldn't have cared to see holly and Christmas trees anywhere. It just made a mess. Or at least that was what he thought but even he could not deny the fact that they looked charming here.
Christmas, he thought, was for fortunate, snobbish children who threw wrapping paper everywhere, while their parents guzzled punch and watched, indulgent of their offsprings' lack of decorum.
Christmas, he had thought, was about spoiling and softening the already-weak and unworthy minds that lingered around, doing nothing constructive with their time and future-plans.
Yet here...
Christmas was for family. And because of that...
Who would have thought about family?
Family was blood. He had none left.
What did he think about family? It meant nothing to him as he had never had it.
Yet Athelinda took his hand, and it looked, remarkably, that while this woman was unwilling to serve him, and he no longer sought her servitude, he still yearned for her loyalty and was marvelled that she was willing to make him happy in a way he never imagined.
She guided him to the dinner table.
"I have presents," she murmured.
"Really?" he asked.
Athelinda nodded. "Nothing remotely depressing, unlike the things you got for your Christmases in that orphanage. She wrinkled her dainty nose and grimaced in disgust. "These are real, true gifts. For you. And you alone."
She sounded firm about that. Yet... she had no reason to believe she had something to gain in return. Or maybe she wanted to pay something back to him.
It stung him, more than he dared to admit. That this woman, should look upon her with something other than what he wanted her too... that she would do this put of pity or see him in another light than that which he aimed her to seem him by.
It growled inside him. He didn't want this. He rose. He wanted something else- something involving her.
Something which would make her react differently to him. Not this.
"Athelinda," he began. "You really don't have to-"
She cut him off with a scowl.
"Don't. I don't pity you- you've fought for and earned more than enough in this world. I don't want to repay you- I'll find other ways, rather than something like this. I don't envy you, giving you something to glean a little secret, when I am independent, accomplished and skilled enough never to depend upon another- and I never will. I don't even seek something in return. I want to give. I want to make this world, but most importantly, your world, a better place, because I choose to, not because I have to." She looked sternly at him.
"You have no family, nothing that you haven't fought for or earned yourself. I might have lost my family and nearly everything else. We can lament this, and turn weak and miserable. Or we can give each other something you've never had before. I lost my family- a wolf always has a pack. It's their centre of gravity to them. This is not to be underestimated- solidarity and partnership. Better than going through this alone."
Tom stared at her.
"Do not scorn this," Athelinda warned. "I know what I'm doing- and I wouldn't make myself look like a fool for nothing. Do you doubt my capabilities?" Her eyes gleamed.
Did she know everything about him? He suddenly couldn't speak. He suddenly couldn't move. He stood stunned and transfixed as her black eyes, shining brighter than dew, gazed at him.
She held out her hand.
Athelinda guided him to the table. There stood a delicious dinner, yet pleasing to the eye, something that might have been made by the Hogwarts House-Elves. She put a lot of trouble into this. He stood silently. Was she trying to fill in her empty void?
It made him uncomfortable on all accounts. the fact that she might have been doing something like this, not truly for him, but as a distraction to her pain. A pain brought on by the fact that she had others in her life, not merely him.
He was not her everything, the way that she was-
He scowled inwardly. Where was this leading to?
However he did admit he wanted himself to be her everything.
No one else.
Athelinda exchanged gifts with Tom. Overall, what a Christmas this was. Despite the loss clearly in her heart... She felt as if she were a goblet overflowing with wine.
Not empty.
She smiled lazily as she passed him his. It was a copy of Ancient Atlantean magic practices. Something which she knew he would love. Secrets and magic.
Athelinda was handed a box.
She was puzzled. It looked small. Did he give her jewellery? Surely not! Where would he have gotten the gold from? He inherited nothing.
Yet when she opened, it (she was expecting earrings of cheap make within) she found something completely unexpected.
There was an oval stone inside, a radiant gem that seemed to drink all the light inside. It was silver and clear, shining brightly and surrounded by rose-cut diamonds set in white-gold. The stone itself changed colour, transforming into something of rich emerald. The inside had something inside.
A snake, curling, moving inside.
The band itself was scaled in places, like a snake.
Athelinda didn't even realise she gasped until she released her breath. Tom watched her carefully but her expression didn't change or transform into emotion.
Did he want her to? He had never felt so unconfident in his life. He frowned. This did not feel right.
"I suppose, I should bow down to tradition, just this once," he admitted grudgingly. He smiled and knelt.
She saw him and almost choked. Her eyes were massive.
"You cannot be serious," she choked.
"Actually I am," he said quietly. "You are different, and so am I. We are welcomed and honoured, yet we are shunned outsiders. We know nearly everything, yet there is still so much to learn. You are right. Perhaps we do not have to walk paths on our own."
And this time, he had no choice but to mean everything he was saying.
Athelinda stood still. She couldn't move. Her eyes locked upon a ring on Tom's own finger. It was a black stone, cracked in the middle, set in clumsily-fashioned, lumpy gold. Where in the world he had gotten that, she did not know.
But the ring he was offering her was much prettier than that. How did he get that?
How much did he pay for it? How long did he save such amounts of money just for this one ring, for a single finger?
For her?
She looked at him.
She didn't know what to say. But she was not speechless, helplessly emotional and incapacitated simpering thing.
She took a deep breath. Tom moved to sit down once more beside her.
Their eyes met, black upon black.
Two of a kind.
And what really shocked her was the depth of emotion in his eyes- serene, professional, calculating and masterful Tom Riddle, always in control, always scorning weakness, showing this part of him that he would never dream of showing anyone else.
He leaned forwards and kissed her, passionately, possessively, yet he allowed her to take some form of control, so independence. Something which fuelled the fire within her. And ignited a fire within him, he never dreamed could exist.
He could suddenly taste a few of their treats for dinner- something spicy and hot, yet she felt rich and soft, soft as velvet and soothing, enticing like chocolate. It was soft, so soft, warm, and spicy. So hot.
"Will you marry me?" He asked once they pulled away, regretfully.
She looked at him for a long moment, as if thinking, studying.
"Yes, I will," she responded calmly and smoothly sealing her fate and forging her destiny.