Pluto's Ballz it's been forever since I posted anything, everything I had stored in my Doc Management folder is gone due to the time limit.
Ah well, most of the stuff was already posted anyways, If I need to come back to it, so be it.
In any case, I'm back, and Hopefully I'll be able to update more often, now that I don't have University breathing down my neck.
To celebrate, here's the next part of Herwald's adventure.
Chapter 12: Forgotten Memories.
Herwald tensed, eyeing the words in alarm even as they faded away, but when nothing untoward happened, and he detected nothing wrong with his circuits after a cautionary exam, he cautiously informed the diary, or Tom rather, how he'd come across it in Myrtle's bathroom.
"Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink." Riddle replied,Herwald deciding to refer to the book by its former master's surname, it was certainly less of a mouthful than calling it 'The Diary' all the time "But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."
"I take it you're referring to the Chamber of Secrets?" Herwald wrote, a sense of anticipation building inside of him as he awaited the reply with baited breath, as he knew from his research that Tom Riddle had earned his award for services to the school in his fifth year, dated fifty years ago, the same year, according to Lucius Malfoy, that the Chamber had last been opened.
It was a long shot, but Herwald was hoping the former Slytherin knew something about the Chamber, or at the very least knew the name of whoever had been opened it last time. "You are correct, young Einzbern." Came Riddle's reply, "Should I assume, therefore, that the Chamber has been opened again?"
"You assume correct." Herwald replied, almost snarkily, writing quickly and flawlessly, checking to make sure he hadn't woken Draco or the others all the while "There have been three attacks, though so far no fatalities, the victims are only petrified."
"That is unfortunate, though not surprising." Riddle noted in his reply "I was in my Fifth year when the Chamber opened, and the monster attacked several students before finally killing one. Shortly after I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled, but the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned."
'He killed someone and they didn't think to lock him up?' Herwald muttered, aware of the irony even as he said it, though unlike the culprit, Herwald was justified in his crimes, as the only people he'd killed had been worthless wastes of air that had no merit worth saving. Hell if what Rider told him about Shinji was true, he doubted even Shirou, with his bleeding heart desire to save everyone he could, would've stopped him from splattering the little rapist's brains. He'd probably have helped out. "Can you tell me who opened the Chamber last time?" he asked, shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts even as he spoke "Maybe they can offer some clue as to who's behind it THIS time."
"I can show you, if you like?" came Riddle's enigmatic reply, "You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him."
Herwald hesitated, eyeing the words on the paper with understandable concern. After all, who knew what kind of spells Riddle had cast on his diary? The fact it seemed to possess a portion of his memories was unsettling enough, but precisely WHAT did it mean by allowing him to 'witness' a specific memory?
"Let me show you." Riddle persisted, the words appearing on the page seeming to exert a strange pull on Herwald, despite the face the Ring of Kay protected him from any and all mental attacks. Shaking his head briefly, the Einzbern steeled his resolve and wrote his reply:
'OK.'
The second Herwald had written his confirmation, the pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he gripped his wand, though the when nothing happened after a few seconds, he simply waited, tensely, until the pages stopped halfway through the month of June, his brow quirking as he realized the little square for the 13th of June, a Friday it would seem no less, seemed to have turned into a miniscule television screen. Knowing better than to put the thing anywhere near his face, he instead reinforced his vision, peering down at the little window, only to jerk as it widened, the Einzbern letting out a curse as he felt himself tilt forwards, his body leaving the bed as he was pitched headfirst through the opening in the page into a whirl of colour and shadow.
'Scheiße!' he swore, cursing himself for being so stupid, his wand held tightly in his grasp a she flipped agilely through the air, landing in a crouch once his feet hit the floor and rolling to the side, activating the Potter Ring on instinct, his emerald eyes narrowed in suspicion as he took in his surroundings.
He was in a circular room, the walls lined with slumbering portraits of various witches and wizards. Behind the desk in the centre sat a wizened, frail-looking wizard, bald except for a few wisps of white hair, who was reading a letter by candlelight, either unaware of Herwald's sudden arrival, or pointedly ignoring the boy, a fact the Einzbern was keen to take full advantage off until he figured out where the hell he was.
'I've seen a few of those portraits before…' he muttered, keeping behind the old man, his eyes taking in every angle of the room, noting the only way out seemed to be the window, which meant cutting across the old man's sight, and the door to the side, which would mean breaking cover and putting his back to the man 'They're former Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses, so at the very least I'm still in Hogwarts…'
The elderly wizard folded up the letter he'd been reading up until now with a sigh and stood up, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he watched the old man walk past him, crossing the room to the window, drawing the curtains, Herwald noting that the sun was setting outside before the old man returned to his seat behind the desk, twiddling his thumbs while watching the door.
'It was midnight when I opened Riddle's Diary.' The Einzbern recalled, confident in his timekeeping abilities as he glanced at the pocket watch he'd received from the Flamels, only to frown as he noticed it seemed to have frozen just after midnight, even though he was certain he'd wound it up 'Which means either I've gone back in time…or this is Riddle's Memory…'
It made sense, Riddle had been a student at Hogwarts, a Prefect and Head Boy no less, so it stood to reason he had been in the Headmaster's office, which was the only place Herwald could think of where the portraits of the previous masters would be assembled.
This meant that the man behind the desk was the Headmaster of the time, Professor Dippet, whom according to Riddle had silenced the boy from revealing the true identity of the culprit behind the previous opening of the Chamber, and had set them free with little worse than an expulsion.
It also meant that Herwald's use of the Potter Ring had been unnecessary, for as a guest in the memory, he was little more than a Phantom, unable to see or do anything but watch as the events of fifty years ago transpired.
'Or at least that's how it SHOULD be.' He muttered, eyeing Professor Dippet with a look of understandable suspicion. A person's memories were bound to THEM and THEM alone, which meant if the owner of said memories wasn't present in a scene, then they should have no knowledge of it. Why then, was Herwald able to see the inside of the former Headmaster's office when Riddle wasn't present?
There was a knock on the office door, Professor Dippet bidding the guest 'Enter' in a feeble sounding voice that was heart wrenching to listen to, Herwald's attention focusing on the door as it opened to admit a tall, dark haired boy, about sixteen if Herwald was any judge, who removed his pointed hat out of deference to the headmaster. Herwald spotted a silver prefect's badge glinting on the boy's chest, and came to immediate conclusion that this was none other than Riddle himself, a conclusion that Dippet confirmed by addressing the boy.
"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" Riddle asked, looking nervous, though Herwald could tell it was feigned, probably for the old man's benefit. It would seem his senior Serpent knew the Slytherin codebook inside and out.
"Sit down." Dippet insisted, waiting for the boy to comply as he held up the letter he'd been reading when Herwald had arrived "I've just been reading the letter you sent me." He noted, looking towards Riddle, who seemed to grow rather tense at the revelation, gripping his hands together so tightly the knuckles were paling "My dear boy," said Dipper kindly "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"
"No." Riddle countered immediately, almost, but not actually, cutting the old man off, Herwald quirking a brow as he caught the slight undertone of anger in the boy's tone "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that…to that…"
"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" said Dippet curiously, a hint of not-quite pity in his tone, as if the idea of associating with mundanes was some mark of stigma, continuing only after Riddle, flushing slightly, confirmed it "You are Muggle-born?"
"Half-blood, sir." Riddle corrected, and Herwald noted a hint of anger in the boy's tone at the thought of being mistaken for a Muggleborn "Muggle father, witch mother." He elaborated "My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just long enough to name me: Tom, after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather."
Herwalds POV...
Herald frowned, already not liking what he was seeing of his predecessor. It would seem that Tom Marvolo Riddle possessed the same inherent prejudice most Pureblood wizards had towards Mundanes, and those that came from less than 'pure' backgrounds. Never mind the fact that the term 'Muggleborn' itself was erroneous, as more often than not the magi in question were descended from a pureblood squib who'd married into a Mundane family out of necessity, as back then it was quite common for Magus families to either disown their magically incapable offspring, or have them discretely 'done away with.'
'A pity that the Makiri didn't think to stick to that particular custom.' He muttered, recalling Matou Shinji, Shirou's childhood friend and Sakura's adoptive elder brother. The slimy little weasel was the head of the family, being the only son of the elder son, but was little better off than a squib as he lacked a single magical circuit in his entire body. This, naturally, had led to a tremendous inferiority complex that demanded he lash out at anyone that he perceived as looking down on him, badgering them until they either avoided him or succumbed to his will.
And that wasn't the WORST the little bastard had done, as from what little he'd managed to get out of Rider, and Shirou's own suspicions after seeing Sakura's injuries revealed that Shinji had been particularly abusive towards the plum haired girl, and had apparently raped her on more than one occasion, on his grandfather's orders no less.
Orders from Jubstacheit or not, Herwald was regretting killing the little prick as quickly as he had during the Grail war. He should've drawn it out like he had with Quirrell, a sentiment that was shared by Rider, Illyasviel and Rin, though surprisingly, Sakura continued to defend her brother, citing it was on Zouken's orders that he had done what he did, and that he'd only ever hurt her occasionally, when his temper had been at its worst and she'd unintentionally provoked him. Rider had said nothing on the matter, but Herwald could tell from the Gorgon's expression that Sakura was simply sugar-coating things in order to help everyone move on with their lives.
He had to marvel at the younger Tohsaka sibling's strength, though considering she was RIN'S little sister he really shouldn't have. Magi of the Tohsaka family were stubborn, possessed of an inner strength that could move mountains. Whatever the Makiri had done to the girl had only made her desire to live stronger.
He shook himself out of such thoughts, as admiration for the girl aside, it didn't help him with the current situation before him, namely that, hypocritical Pureblood bigotry aside, there were a lot of similarities between him and Tom Riddle.
Both of them were orphans, though it would appear Riddle had yet to find a new home, whereas Herwald had been adopted by the Einzberns before moving in with Shirou. Both were half-bloods, though Herwald was technically a 'three-quarters blood', seeing as Lily Potter had been a 'Muggleborn', and thus descended of a Pureblood Squib. They were both Slytherins, evident enough by their robes, and both were currently dealing with a madman and his trained attack monster running around the school.
But that was where the problems started. Why would Riddle, a Slytherin with a clear dislike of Muggleborns, want to stop the so-called 'heir of Slytherin' that was going around attacking them?
He hadn't missed the look of anger and self-revulsion in the older boy's eyes when he'd described his parentage, apparently Riddle's ancestry was a touchy subject, which meant he was at least descended from a line of Purebloods that had either fallen into hard times, or had disowned him because of his Muggle sire, neither of which was conducive towards developing positive feelings towards Muggleborns, which at around this time would have been on the rise.
Professor Dippet, however, seemed to lack Herwald's insight into the boy's character, as he merely clucked his tongue sympathetically and sighed "The thing is, Tom." He began, using the boy's first name, possibly as a term of endearment, missing the flash of anger in Riddle's eyes at being addressed as such "Special arrangements MIGHT have been made for you, but in the current circumstances…"
"You mean all these attacks, sir?" Riddle enquired, Herwald's back stiffening slightly, even as he stepped forwards, watching the older boy's eyes like a hawk. Had he imagined it, or had he spotted something there for a second?
"Precisely." The memory of the old headmaster confirmed, nodding for emphasis "My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy… the death of that poor little girl…"
Herwald glanced at Dippet at those words, though he never took his eyes off Riddle's face. While the former headmaster seemed to grow frailer at the mention of the death, Riddle seemed impassive, as if it didn't bother him. Was he simply reigning in his emotions? Or was it something else?
"You will be safer by far at your orphanage." Dippet concluded, shaking his head after a moment of reflective silence "As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school." He sighed, looking helpless "We are no nearer locating the…source…of all this unpleasantness…"
"Sir…" Riddle spoke up, Herwald's eyes narrowing even as the elder boy's widened, the Einzbern watching as the gears turned behind that handsome façade "If the person was caught…if it all stopped…"
"What do you mean?" Dippet asked with a squeak in his voice, the Headmaster sitting up in his chair with a look of excited amazement on his face, as if glancing the light at the end of a tunnel "Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"
"No, sir." said Riddle quickly, FAR too quickly for Herwald, who'd been trained to read a person's body language to discern whether or not they were lying or not as part of his training for the Grail War. The Elder Slytherin DID know something, but whether it was simply suspicion, or something deeper, was uncertain.
Dippet, however, one again lacked the Einzbern's ability, and so simply sank back into his chair, looking faintly disappointed "You may go, Tom…" he allowed, Riddle offering a polite farewell as he slid off his chair and slouched out of the room, Herwald following the boy like the phantom he was.
As Riddle prepares to leave...
Making sure to memorize the precise location of the Headmaster's office in case he needed to speak with Dumbledore, as unlikely as it seemed, in the near future, the Einzbern followed the memory of Riddle through the darkening halls of Hogwarts from Fifty years prior, stopping whenever the older teen stopped, ducking out of sight just in case the memory suddenly turned to address him, reinforcing his eyes to examine the boy's features.
From what he could tell, Riddle seemed to be deep in thought, his handsome features taught, his brows furrowing as he bit his lip, whatever thoughts that were racing through his head clearly giving him a hard time. Then, as though he had suddenly reached a decision, the memory of Riddle hurried off, Herwald gliding invisibly and noiselessly behind him, his wand at the ready, for all the good it was likely to do, only to pull up short outside the entrance hall, where a tall wizard with a long bead and sweeping auburn hair called to Riddle from the marble staircase.
"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?" He didn't QUITE demand, Herwald's eyes widening at the familiar, if younger, voice, turning to gape in shock at what had to be Dumbledore, aged Fifty years younger, and still clearly a member of Hogwarts' staff.
"I had to see the headmaster, sir," Riddle explained, and Herwald noted that not only was the elder Slytherin avoiding Dumbledore's eyes, which meant he knew the old Twinkler's was a Legilimens, but he seemed almost NERVOUS around the man.
"Well, hurry off to bed." Dumbledore ordered, and Herwald coudn't help but quirk a brow, for while the tone was genial, the future-headmaster's blue eyes weren't twinkling even slightly, instead he seemed to be giving Riddle the same penetrating stare he'd used on Herwald earlier that year, only Herwald couldn't detect a single trace of concern there, only suspicion "Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since…"
He trailed off, suddenly seeming older, sighing heavily before bidding Riddle good night and striding off down the hall. Riddle watched him walk out of sight, and Herwald swore he saw the Slytherin exhale briefly, before following him as he moved to quickly move down the stone steps to the dungeons, the Einzbern unable to help quirking a brow as he recognised the dungeon the elder boy entered as the very one Snape used for his lessons, though it seemed to not be in use by this point, evidenced from the dust on the floors and walls.
Moving quickly yet silently, Riddle pushed the door to the dungeon almost closed, cutting off all light to the point Herwald could only make him out by reinforcing his eyes, the Einzbern watching the elder Slytherin as he stood stock-still by the door, watching the passage outside. They stood like that for what felt like an hour, the boy and the memory, only Herwald's training keeping him from going out of his mind with boredom, only to tense as he heard something move beyond the door.
Someone was creeping along the passage, he could tell by the steady footfalls that whoever it was had to at least possess two legs, which meant it was either a member of staff or a student out of bounds after curfew. The former seemed more likely, as whoever was coming down the corridor was BIG, the footfalls were far too heavy to belong to any student, even Crabbe and Goyle didn't have that heavy a tread, though at the same time it was too small to be anything NEAR as big as a troll, for one thing the dust in the dungeon hadn't been disturbed.
Whoever, WHATEVER was out there passed by the Dungeon Riddle and Herwald were lurking in without stopping, Riddle waiting with admirable skill, for someone without the proper training that is, until the footsteps had receded, before slipping out the door, quiet as a shadow, and making his way down the hall Herwald following in his wake, his training instinctively making him stalk the elder boy despite the fact he was not only invisible, but even f he hadn't been, Riddle wouldn't have been able to see him anyways.
'I wonder if this was what it was like for Assassin whenever she had to assume astral form?' Herwald wondered, a flash of pain washing over him at the memory of his faithful Servant, who'd sacrificed herself to enable them to escape from Gilgamesh at the Einzbern Castle. It was times like this he missed having the Servant around, for as unnerving as she could be, her skills at gathering information had been top-notch, as was expected of an incarnation of Hassan-il-Sabbah, the legendary leader of the order of Assassins.
He shook himself to clear his head, as such thoughts would only get in the way now, the Einzbern following the memory of Riddle through the dungeon corridors for what felt like five minutes, only to pull up short as Riddle came to a halt, Herwald's reinforced ears twitching as Riddle inclined his head towards the sound of a creaking door, and a familiar voice speaking in a hoarse whisper.
"C'mon… gotta get yeh outta here…" the voice whispered, laced with urgency, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he tried to place why it sounded so hauntingly familiar, even as something chittered in the darkness "C'mon now… in the box…"
"Evening, Rubeus." Riddle greeted sharply, jumping around the corner, Herwald's eyes widening as he followed the boy just in time to see the dark outline of a huge boy who was crouching in front of an open door, a large box, more of a crate really, lying next to it.
The boy jumped at the sound of Riddle's voice and slammed the door shut, leaping to his feet and turning to face the Slytherin, giving Herwald a better look at his face, which even without the gorse brush beard, Herwald could immediately recognize as a younger Rubeus Hagrid. "What yer doin' down here, Tom?" the teenage half-giant asked, the future Groundskeeper and Keeper of the Keys looking at Riddle warily as the Prefect stepped closer.
"It's all over." Riddle replied, his wand out and pointed at the larger boy, his expression calm, collected, and cold as a viper's kiss "I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop." He waved his free hand dismissively at Hagrid's look of confusion "I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and…"
"He never killed no-one!" Hagrid countered, the teenage half-giant backing up against the closed door, his arms outstretched as if to bar Riddle entry, Herwald's brows furrowing as he caught strains of a funny rustling and clicking going on behind it.
"Come on, Rubeus." Riddle urged, the Slytherin moving even closer to the distraught half-giant, his voice like silk and syrup "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered."
"It wasn't him!" Hagrid roared, his voice echoing in the dark passage as he defended whatever was behind the door with a look of anger that Herwald rarely saw nowadays from the gentle giant "He wouldn'! He never!"
"Stand aside." Riddle ordered, all pretences of attempting to reason with the half giant gone as he aimed his wand, Herwald reaching out to grab his arm, only to curse as it went right through, the spell that emerged lighting the corridor with a sudden flaming light, the door behind Hagrid flying open with such force it knocked the half-giant teen into the opposite wall, Herwald's eyes widening as he gaped at the horror inside.
It was a Spider, but not just ANY spider, for no normal spider was the size of a medium-sized dog, it's vast, low-slung, hairy body a tangle of black legs and gleaming multiple eyes, the pair of razor-sharp pincers that formed its mouth gleaming in the torchlight.
A part of Herwald was glad that Ron wasn't here, more than likely the boy would've suffered a heart attack the moment the door was opened, hell HE wasn't likely to look at Spiders the same way again after seeing this monstrosity. Such thoughts were soon banished as Riddle raised his wand again, too late it would seem, for the arachnid horror had lunged forwards, bowling over the Slytherin prefect before scuttling into the darkness in bid for freedom.
Riddle, enraged if his expression was any indication, was NOT willing to accommodate the creature's bid for freedom, and so scrambled to his feet, raising his wand once again, only for Hagrid, who'd by now recovered his wits, to leap at the Slytherin, grabbing his wand and tossing the smaller boy to the ground with a howl of "NOOOOOO!" which echoed around Herwald's skull just as Riddle's cracked against the stone floor, the scene whirling around the Einzbern, the darkness becoming complete, Herwald realizing immediately that Riddle must have lost consciousness even as he felt himself falling, the Einzbern slapping down with his hands as he landed on his four poster bed in the Slytherin dormitory, Riddle's diary lying at his side, as innocent as you like.
"Herwald?" Draco called out, the Einzbern looking up to see his roommate blinking at him sleepily from his own four poster "What's up?"
"Bad dream…" Herwald assured the Malfoy heir, though his emerald eyes never left Riddle's diary as he spoke, his mind reeling with what he'd just seen.
A little short, but a good means of continuing the plot after so long
Expect more to come.