Chapter XVII: The strongest in the world.
Have you ever tested anger,
Of those named Inferwarlock ?
Take a witch in her bed and light a brazier around her.
At birth the child will probably have this affinity.
On the phoenix he may have authority?
Note to the Gifts #17 of the Slytherin Codex
Tom vividly remembered that particular day when his family was assaulted. He had been teaching for just over a year. It was a gloomy and gray month of February, and Tom had given an essay to his seventh years who were hovering over it with their eyes feverishly lowered on their roll of parchment. Thus, he was almost certain to have peace for the rest of the hour.
Nevertheless, after a few moments, he noticed a small paper snake quickly leaving the door of his office to land on his hand. Tom's blood froze then. He had crafted this spell himself in case of emergency. If anything happened, Meroe just had to take it out of the bodice of her dress and he would be notified immediately. If the little paper snake was there, it was because something was wrong. He immediately left the room under the worried gaze of his students. With a cloaked movement, Tom walked through the corridors with a brisk and hurried step. He found Picott sweeping up the grand staircase and ordered him to watch his homework. His tone was so chilling and so dry that the squib complied, turning blanch.
Tightening his grip on the origami, he swiftly left Hogwarts to head towards the launcher, Meroe herself. He landed in his living room and froze at the sight that came his way.
His bloodied wife had just arrived and was holding Salazar and Medusa in her arms. She was paralyzed, while the children were crying all the tears in their bodies and across the room, Tinny and Duddy were banging a pan on a passed out shape.
"The evil red-headed wizard has killed Mama Manila! howled Duddy smashing his frying pan on the passed out man's head. "He killed Mamanila!"
Tom stunned the unconscious wizard with the back of his hand. His wife, then noticed him and gave him a look transfixed with fear.
"What happened?" he growled as he began to put the pieces of the puzzle back together. "Speak!"
His wife answered him, but panicked she hadn't even realized that she no longer spoke English to him. She mouthed Gypsy words as she shouted insults at the passed out man while hugging the crying children all the more tightly. She continued in her Gypsy lament.
"Not in this language!" hissed Tom. "Tell me what happened!"
"I was…I was in Knockturn Alley with the kids… Two men jumped on us. They wanted the kids. Manila managed to rip off one of them who was holding Salazar. She was thrown against the wall and killed by a hex. I killed one. Then Duddy grabbed my hand, I took the little ones but this wizard grabbed onto my robe."
She cradled Salazar against her, trying to calm him down, while Tom turned his gaze to the unconscious form. The elves had stopped beating him and were now crying in mourning. Tom did not pay them a second of attention and turned the wizard around. Tom recognized him very well. It was Fabian Prewett, a former seventh-year he had been in the same year with, along with his twin Gideon. His blood froze in his veins as a dull anger invaded him. Medusa sobbed and tried to grab his leg as he came back.
"Don't go! Stay here!"
"In my room. Now!"
He teleported the body to the bottom of a dungeon and roughly grabbed his cousin by the hand as she held the children. He stalked down the hallway as his blood raced through his veins. Salazar Slytherin had sunk into paranoia about the end of his life; this room was the most protected in the swamps. No one could enter unless Tom gave the order. He threw his wife and children inside and closed it. He didn't know if the wizard had been followed or if tracking spells had been placed on him; in either case, he wouldn't be the only one to show up.
"Go get your mother's body. Duddy, you'll stay posted there once that's done. I want to know who saw you, who was there, and who saw anything. Tinny, go to the Derby to tell Malfoy. Now get out."
They complied, and Tom went down, foaming with rage, towards the dungeon. Fabian Prewett had woken up, he was tied up and sweating in panic.
"Oh, it's too late to be afraid. You had to think about it before. Who sent you?
With pain, he made the young man's body contract, and he screamed in agony. Tom greedily savored the man's pain but wasn't done with him. He absolutely had to vent his anger. He used the Unforgivable several times and other spells of his own while questioning the young wizard for hours. Gradually, he felt Prewett's defenses begin to crack.
"I could be merciful," Tom finally whispered to his victim. "Who sent you and why?"
He looked into the other's brown eyes. He was so weak that getting inside his head was easy.
"To…stop you, Voldemort," Prewett said harshly. "Kill me like your wife killed my brother… I don't care."
"Come on, little Molly will lose two brothers like this," Tom chuckled. "You will not die, Mr. Prewett. Not until you tell me all your secrets."
"Hands off Molly!" yelled the young man, banging his handcuffs on the stall. "Leave her alone, you monster!"
"I'll let you ponder that for a bit. If family was so precious to you, you wouldn't have touched what is mine."
He stunned the wizard again and left the dungeon, locking it double-locked. His rage had not diminished, quite the contrary. Going up to the corridor leading to his apartments, he thought that there was only one man capable of harming him in this way. A man close to the Prewett family for years: Dumbledore. He had not had the confirmation but would have it shortly. He was in no hurry. There, he felt the burning desire to find his family. When he opened the door to his bedroom, night had fallen; the children were asleep on his bed.
Their serene faces barely soothed him. Meroe was near the hearth of the fireplace, neat and wrapped in a black plaid. She looked up when he arrived.
"Did you kill him?" she hissed furiously.
"Not yet. We will stay here for a few days. No one leaves this room."
He drew his wand and cast a Patronus to warn the Blacks. Soon he would have the end of the story. His spies were surely already there, as was his elf. Meroe had hidden from the light of the Patronus with a brisk leap; she hissed furiously as soon as the silver hydra had left the room.
Tom turned his back on her and climbed onto his bed. From there, he took the small bodies of Salazar and Medusa, refusing to let go. His hold on them was so strong that Salazar moaned in his sleep, but it was an instinct he could not stop.
Today, in a few seconds, his plan could have been entirely destroyed. An attempt had been made on his blood; an attempt had been made to take them away from him.
"Who wanted to reach the blood of our blood?" asked his wife in a heated voice.
"I have a few guesses," Tom said only. "Until things settle down, we'll stay here."
"Locked up?" hissed his wife.
"If as soon as my back is turned, the children are in danger, then yes, I will lock you up," he retorted in the same tone. "Silence or I'll shut you up!"
His wife gave him an imperious look and left to wrap up in her plaid before going to lie down on the sofa next to the fireplace. His anger was the least of Tom's worries, no what mattered were the little bodies breathing softly against him. That was what mattered and wouldn't let them go. Medusa moaned in her sleep and instinctively grabbed her twin's hand. Tom watched her, and then somewhat soothed by their breathing, he fell asleep after several hours.
.
.
He eventually emerged later. He felt the sun on his skin, but especially a small handcuff being placed on his mouth. He then realized that he no longer held the children against him and opened his eyes abruptly. Medusa who was leaning over him fell back on the mattress. He visualized at the end of the room, Salazar playing with Nagini and on the Meroe sofa hidden from the sun under the thick black plaid. He calmed down somewhat. Everything was fine, the children were there, he told to himself. They were safe with him. He fell back on the cushions.
"Did you ´ave a nightmare?" asked little Medusa.
"We can say that," he contented himself with replying.
Barely five years old, she oscillated between the age of toddlers and childhood. She was smart for her age but seemed to have completely forgotten the events of the previous day. Unlike Salazar, she had been talking for a long time and his daughter's small smile awoke sweeter feelings in him. The little girl sat down next to him, observing the scene with interest. She had never been in this room and in her child's mind this part of the house must be an exceptional place. This exceptional formula was enough for her to turn around and clasp her hands against her mouth with a playful air.
"I cast a Blocktongue spell on you !" stammered the little girl.
"You'll do it for some one day," he promised calmly, taking his daughter's hands from his mouth. "Salazar, get back on the bed."
Salazar who was on Nagini's back looked up at him with icy blue eyes and Tom noticed awe in them. A feeling that he often let show through in his presence. His appeasement was for a moment replaced by annoyance. With a hiss from her, Nagini wrapped her rings around her son and laid him gently on the bed frame. Tom grabbed the toddler by the collar to pull him closer. This way, Tom was reassured; he had him nearby, like his wand.
"I'm hungry," Medusa whispered. "We're goin' to eat?"
Tom made ice cream cups appear with the tip of his wand and the children eagerly took it. Meroe still had not moved behind her thick plaid, no doubt she was sleeping. Today almost seemed like a day of celebration for the two children, who gulped down their cups of ice cream with a delighted air. Salazar looked up at him as he was smeared in ice. Like an old habit, Tom tried to read her thoughts without succeeding. His mind was as silent as him, he couldn't get into his mind. Faced with this impassable wall, Tom was perplexed.
"You want some?" Medusa asked, handing her a huge scoop of ice cream.
"I'm fine. Eat, Medusa."
The girl stuffed the spoon in her mouth without caring. Tom had rarely spent so much time with his children. The latter felt it and considered its presence with happiness for one and a certain mistrust for the other. As children, kids didn't interest him very much, they were fragile, brawling little things. He would take care of their education as soon as the magic manifested in them. Still lying down, Tom watched them finish their improvised breakfast. It was Saturday, so his presence was not expected at school, or anywhere else today. His servants would warn him of good or bad news.
"Dad? Why Sal have blue eyes and not us?"
Medusa had entered that age where children ask many questions and fixed him with her black and curious eyes. Straightening up, Tom answered with a certain expertise:
"Because my father had blue eyes."
He remembered those icy blue eyes well, staring at him lifeless in Little Hangleton. No doubt, his son growing up would resemble him greatly.
"Oh? Where's your daddy?"
"He is dead."
"Like the villains from yesterday?"
"Yes," Tom replied slowly.
Medusa considered his response with a slight pout. Nagini had coiled around Salazar again and hissed at him. He didn't reply, just laughing. Did her son even know how to speak Parseltongue?
What was the matter with this child? Why was Medusa the only one who seemed normal? These were questions he had been pondering for a long time without finding an answer. The little girl placed her cup awkwardly on the tray and threw herself at him. Tom acknowledged the impact without flinching. The child was now climbing on his chest, looking very content. She grabbed the Slytherin locket with her little childish hands and gazed at the jewels with a sweet smile.
"The bad guys won't come back! Because you are the strongest in the world!"
"Of course," he hissed, tucking the locket away inside his robes.
It was then that he realized he was still covered in Prewett's blood. The dried blood on his robe was dark, and he also had some on one hand and on his forearm.
"Blood," Salazar muttered. "B-b-blood."
Tom glared at his son. Finally, his first words. This triggered a fierce joy in him that doubled with the meaning of that word. Maybe his son had a future?
"Yes, Salazar. It's blood. The blood of the wizard who harmed you."
The boy immediately lowered his icy blue eyes and resumed playing with Nagini. Tom stood up. A bath would not be a luxury. Medusa was still clinging to his wizard robe and Meroe asleep. He levitated Salazar and grabbed him under the arm to take them with him to the bathroom.
The child also needed to be cleaned up. He had never done it but it should not be very complex.
If the elves and his squib wife could do it, then this task was not so challenging. He ran the water in the large stone basin and undressed his children with a wave of his wand. This made Medusa chuckle as she stepped into the tub after Salazar. Tom entered it in turn. The hot, soapy water had the merit of soothing his nerves. He savored the warm water with delight and conjured up a glass of wine. He drank, massaging the bridge of his nose to ease his tension.
Medusa playfully splashed Salazar with water, and he responded with laughter. Tom looked at his son. If the boy had managed to speak, he must have something else to say.
"Try to say something," Tom encouraged his son.
Salazar stopped playing with his twin and looked at his father again with concern. He looked terrified, a look somewhat similar to the one his little classmates at the orphanage once gave him. Tom refrained from clicking his tongue on his palate and concealed his annoyance.
"Speak," he asked more softly this time. "If you say something, I'll let you have another ice cream later."
Salazar glanced where Medusa was chirping happily at the thought of more sweets.
"Come on, Sal! Say something!"
"Something," the little boy mumbled obediently, lowering his eyes.
Tom suppressed a sigh. Could this boy be simple-minded? A lineage of the purest blood ran through both of their veins, so why was Salazar so different? Tom had noticed it right away. This boy exuded a gentle aura that, in addition to his silence, could make him appear a little strange. Tom had, however, noticed one thing about his son: he had a peculiar attraction to magical creatures. Two years earlier, Salazar had eluded the elves' surveillance to visit the thestral enclosure where his mother was. She had told him what she had seen. The little one saw the thestrals and stroked them when he didn't even comprehend the concept of death. The water snakes in the pond and even Nagini had a curious attraction toward him. Tom had read the Slytherin Codex up and down trying to find an explanation for these oddities, but to no avail. His developing gift was still an enigma, and Tom felt like he was navigating uncharted waters. This was not what he had expected when he was making his plans.
Tom scrubbed his skin to remove the last traces of blood, and almost clean, he observed the twins playing together at the other end of the basin. Medusa led her brother, guiding him through various games. In one instance, she mimicked Babitty Rabbitty from the eponymous tale and ordered her younger brother to play the role of the evil Muggle king. Tom wondered if the elves had read this tale to them; he highly doubted that Meroe had.
"Now you lost. Babitty won. You bow!" the girl ordered seriously.
Then, Salazar complied immediately. Tom's blood froze in his veins and he darted his gaze at Medusa. Salazar had been carrying out all of his sister's orders since earlier, she had ordered Tom to stay with them yesterday and he had done so without question… She was a Susurrus. The little girl did not understand what she was capable of doing and Tom hadn't noticed it, but her brother had been paying the price since he was little.
"It's you," he realized. "You screwed up your brother!"
His anger was so great that he thought for a moment of drowning the kid in the bathtub. She was unwanted, and she was the one who had made Salazar like this.
"It's not me. It's not me," Medusa whined at his red eyes and menacing aura. It's not me!
He grabbed the toddler by the arm to force her to look at him. He infiltrated into her head with vehemence. It was her; she had always held her brother under her thumb, whispering orders to him without being aware of it. Salazar's little childish mind had been enslaved by someone other than himself.
"Let her go!" Salazar squealed, squirting water at him.
"Ouch! You're hurtin' me," Medusa stammered between her tears, trying to free herself. "I won't do it again!"
"Darkblood Morgana, what are you doing?!"
Meroe was awake and had run into the bathroom as soon as she heard the twins scream. She froze when she saw him furious with her daughter.
"It's her!" he hissed in parseltongue. "She's a fucking whisperer, that's what she is! She completely screwed up her brother!"
Tom was squeezing Medusa's hand so tightly that she began to slap his hand with her tiny cuff while moaning. Salazar didn't understand what was happening and was crying too. These cries annoyed him even more, and for a moment, he felt like he had been transported back to the orphanage surrounded by those bawling Muggles. Merlin, he hated children.
"Let me go!" ordered the terrified toddler girl.
He let go involuntarily. Meroe rushed to get the children out of the water and placed them on the mosaic floor. Tom quickly left the bathtub, without a word of foaming rage, and got dressed in haste, while the cries of the little ones continued to escalate. Meroe was trying to calm them down, but her skills seemed to be better suited for discipline rather than comforting. She glared at him.
"I didn't carry them for nine months for you to risk their lives with a simple tantrum. Seriously, consider getting some therapy!"
"Watch out, or I might use you for healing. Just calm them down, by Merlin!"
"I'm trying!" hissed the squib. "But between yesterday and what you just did, Medusa's not needed to ruin your plans; you're doing it yourself."
"Crucio!"
His cousin's scream of pain did little to soothe him, and the distress of the two toddlers only intensified. They cried even harder.
At that precise moment, Tom could have killed them all. It would have been so easy, and he could have reverted to his original plan, plus the knowledge from the Slytherin Codex. But he restrained himself. He quickly left the bathroom and then his bedroom, locking the door securely.
From there, he descended to the dungeons to complete his treatment. Prewett had not moved, and his dried blood was already splattered in the cell.
This smell of rancid and metallic blood sharpened the senses of the wizard who was already throwing an unforgivable on the young man. He answered it with a long cry and it was sweet to Tom's ears, who held back a small hiss of lively pleasure. He chained these tortures for a long time.
"You only have one name to say, Fabian Prewett. It will be easy."
The red-haired young man was bloodless and dehydrated. One of his eyes was swollen, and his mouth was leaking a trickle of fresh blood.
"I already know the identity of the man who sent you and your brother. I just want to hear it from your mouth and your motives."
Prewett gasped and looked up valiantly at him.
"I will never… betray him. You have to stop... you and your whole family. We'll make it. We will get there."
He fell back into a deep sleep.
.
In the evening, the elves came to provide their report. They had gathered witnesses and some evidence. A witch had sworn she recognized Dumbledore on a rooftop in Knockturn Alley. Tom's rage surged against the old man. He would make him pay, but not right away. He dismissed the elves and returned to his room. Meroe was in a corner, the children asleep on her bed.
"Let us out," his wife finally hissed. "I haven't eaten all day, by Morgana! And neither have your children!"
"You will eat. Come with me," he ordered her in a dry tone.
Suspicious, she followed him as he returned to the dungeon. Outside the door, he turned to address the Darkblood.
"Dumbledore planned this attack. The child inside this dungeon is our best weapon to harm him. He's also yours. But I forbid you to kill him, do you hear me?"
Meroe, who had frowned at the mention of Dumbledore, froze in front of this unexpected offering. She couldn't help a ravenous expression on her sunken face. Like a snake, she slightly flicked out her tongue in a small, beastly hiss. Tom might have found it repulsive, but over the past few years, he had personally trained his cousin to develop her skills, and he was often amazed by the latent power hidden within this squib. She entered the dungeon and boldly approached Fabian's body. The young man woke up and seemed even more panicked when he recognized her in the darkness.
She was just centimeters away from the young man's face, assuming the look of a predator.
"Hello, you. Let's see if you have better taste than your foolish brother."
She bridged the gap and kissed Fabian Prewett for an extended period, wrapping her hands around his face. Slowly, his strength waned, and he turned even paler in the dungeon's darkness. She released him at the last moment, as he was on the brink of death, and glanced up at Tom.
"Thank you for this little snack. How long should I make it last?"
"As long as necessary. Savor the pleasure."
"I won't miss out on it."
He left her there and returned to his room. He now had a hostage, witnesses, and evidence, but Dumbledore, if he had indeed acted, also had things against him. All he had to do was wait; Tom was in no hurry. He would get what he wanted. The head of that old lunatic would soon be on a pike. When he entered his apartment, he found Salazar asleep on Nagini, but Medusa was awake. When she saw him, her large eyes welled up. He suppressed a grimace of contempt and slowly approached his bed. The chilly little girl didn't dare move.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, sitting down beside her.
The little one nodded bravely, playing with the ribbon in her hair that she had adored for the past few months.
"Y-yes... Can I have another ice cream?"
Tom nodded and summoned another cup of frozen sherbet. She took it in her small hands, and Tom noticed the mark he had left on her arm earlier in the day.
Tom summoned some daisyroot essence and opened the bottle. He gently took his trembling daughter's arm and cleaned the bruises. In a few seconds, there was no trace of his violence left on Medusa's body, but she still had the morning's images in her mind.
"Are you going to hurt me like Mommy?" she asked after a moment.
"No. But what you did today, the orders you gave, you must never use them against your brother or against me again."
He spoke in such a cold tone that the girl gasped and dropped her cup of ice cream. His reflexes allowed him to catch it in time. She was terrified of him, but Tom sensed that fear alone wouldn't be enough to mend their relationship. He placed the cup on the bedside table and held his daughter against him as he lay down on the bed. He had always despised physical contact, but Medusa seemed to find it reassuring. He took the Slytherin medallion from the collar of his robe for the girl to touch. She made the small diamonds and emeralds glisten in the soft moonlight.
"I'll never do it again," the child promised, "I swear."
"I hope so. You will become a powerful witch one day."
"More powerful than you?"
Tom refrained from hissing in contempt. If his daughter did indeed possess a very powerful blood gift, he would ensure that she didn't reach his level. Second place was respectable, and it would be useful for his plans while securing a peaceful future. Medusa should be content with this position.
"You will become powerful," he assured. "Somewhat like me, but you must listen to me, always. Do you understand, Medusa?"
He tried to use simple words to make sure the young girl comprehended him. She nodded weakly against him, then turned her head slightly to observe Salazar sleeping lengthwise on Nagini's body.
"Did I hurt Sal?" she stammered, trying to hold back a sob. "He never told me that I hurt him, even when I'm inside his head, he doesn't tell me."
Tom froze. He already knew that Medusa had Legilimency abilities, but being able to access her brother's thoughts? Was it their twin connection that provided her this unique access, or had Salazar's distrust created a mental barrier against his father?
This revelation increased his satisfaction toward the young girl.
"What do you see in his mind?"
The girl seemed hesitant. Maybe it was difficult for her to form the idea, or perhaps at such a young age, she wanted to respect her twin's privacy.
"He doesn't think like us. For Mom and me, it's sentences and words. Same for Tinny and Duddy. But for him, it's pictures. Many pictures with sounds. Sometimes there are scents, and other times, strong emotions."
"What do these emotions tell you?" Tom inquired, eager to understand the depths of his flesh and blood.
"He... he's often scared. About you and Mom," Medusa whispered fearfully.
"And are you afraid of me?"
"Sometimes," the child admitted, pausing in her play with the locket to gaze at it with her large black eyes.
"It's because I'm the most powerful that you're afraid of me. That's normal. It's your instinct telling you to heed me. Always follow your instincts."
The girl nodded hesitantly, but a hint of fear still lingered in her eyes. Tom removed the Slytherin locket and handed it to his daughter. This time, fear gave way to an expression of pure joy and childlike innocence – at least that's how it appeared based on Tom's limited knowledge of such matters.
"You can keep this for tonight because you're a brave young witch."
"Thanks!" Medusa enthused. "You know, you scare me sometimes, dad. But I still love you a little."
He winced. He would have to correct the elves and their questionable taste in selecting reading material for the children. However, their folly had an advantage; he had something to ensure that the child next to him would obey him without question in the future. He gently stroked his daughter's black hair and settled her down on the cushions between Salazar and himself.
"I know, now, sleep Medusa."
.
.
.
Tom woke up without warning. When he surfaced, he realized he was in the staff room at Hogwarts. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had only dozed off for a few minutes, his forehead resting on his hand. These memories were almost ten years old, and he hadn't revisited them for a long time. He wondered why they had resurfaced now. Since creating his horcruxes, he slept little and rarely dreamed.
"You're back with us, Professor Riddle," came Flitwick's distinctive, squeaky voice.
Tom was the only other teacher in the room, and he hadn't initially noticed the diminutive professor who was partially hidden behind a stack of essays.
"My apologies," Tom replied, forcing a casual smile. "The late nights of grading have finally caught up with me."
"No need for apologies," Flitwick replied kindly. "Considering your additional responsibilities in Dumbledore's absence and the early return of your children to Hogwarts, it's quite understandable. A few minutes of rest on a pile of papers is a minor indulgence."
Flitwick levitated a stack of graded essays to a designated pile and leaned in closer, adopting an air of camaraderie.
"To be perfectly honest, I empathize with you. Some of our students can be dreadfully tedious when it comes to their essays. For them, it's the length of the parchment that counts, not the substance. We end up reading the same tiresome nonsense across the years."
The diminutive professor let out a chuckle, and Tom played along, maintaining the charade to uphold his facade. He had never held a particularly high opinion of Flitwick. They had been classmates during Tom's time at Hogwarts, and Flitwick had never stood out, neither as a powerful wizard nor as an ambitious individual. His choice to settle for mediocrity and a mundane routine had always been a source of disdain for Tom.
Professor McGonagall had just arrived pulling the door open, a bundle of papers under her arm. She greeted Tom briefly and Flitwick more warmly as she sat down next to him. The brunette then referred to his own pile of copies. Prince corrected most of the assignments, except for the fourth year ones. Tom now wanted to see the progress of several of his little proteges. There was Salazar and Medusa of course. The latter followed his lessons obediently and thanks to their revisions during the holidays, their result remained at the minimum that he required of them. There was also Edward Lee, the kid was managing, in addition to his messy and almost phonetic writing, he was making progress. It was not however on written progress that he considered the continuation with Lee. If Salazar was able to use his uncanny gift to channel Lee's power, then maybe the brat would live a little longer. Tom was counting on it, you had to put it in your pocket for that. It wouldn't be very complicated, he was already very close to Salazar and Medusa and had been able to return to his home. It was therefore necessary to ensure that he was further isolated from his guardians for the months to come.
Tom then darted a glance at the last copy to be corrected. Bellatrix Black's. The teenager he had seen at the Derby was brilliant, as was Medusa. There was, however, a growing blood rage in her, which she devoted entirely to her cause. Bellatrix Black had gloated in ecstasy when he had placed the mark on her, she would be a devoted servant, he had no doubt. He wrote a brief Optimal on the copy and placed it on the pile of parchment which he sent back to his desk with a wave of his wand.
McGonagall was having a cup of tea with Flitwick. Tom gave them a thin, false smile and hurried out of the room. He still had things to do tonight and the thought annoyed him more than correcting silly papers.
He squinted as he recognized Dumbledore's tall form advancing towards him. He managed to compose a neutral pout as the old man quietly greeted him.
"Tom, how was your return to school?" he said, changing to the formal address like every time they could be heard.
Dumbledore never took the time to bother with conveniences with him. The old man was tired, his features were greyish and it caused a hiss of mournful joy to burst inside Tom as he replied:
"Relatively quiet. You, however, seem quite fatigued, Professor Dumbledore. You should consider getting more rest."
"Thank you for the advice, Tom. It's unusual to receive counsel from you, but I'll take it to heart."
Dumbledore's eyes shimmered softly as he studied Tom, who resisted the urge to gouge them out. The old man wanted something from him, so he had to be patient.
"Minerva informed me that Mr. Lee returned during the holidays with you and your children."
"Indeed, I had the chance to run into him while returning."
Dumbledore remained skeptical, but Tom expected as much. The old man had never taken his words at face value. The Headmaster motioned for Tom to walk with him in the corridor, their arms barely touching, but it was an arrangement Tom would not have agreed to before. A decade of performing this facade had honed his acting skills somewhat. They were equally suspicious of each other, yet they continued this charade until one of them found a way to destroy the other. Tom had the upper hand, knowing he could use Dumbledore's vulnerabilities against him.
"I asked you to leave Mr. Lee alone," Dumbledore said. "The boy seems to be improving. But, Tom, what do you stand to gain from all this?"
"Knowledge, and the safety of our students," Tom replied, adding, "something you seem to have overlooked with your recent absences. How are Grindelwald's research endeavors progressing?"
Dumbledore's jaw twitched slightly, a sign of discomfort that Tom savored. He maintained a sly smile as he pressed on.
"We're making progress, I believe. We're still trying to uncover how one of our subjects managed to escape. But I'm confident we'll have more information soon."
This response revealed everything Tom needed to know. He fell silent, as he sensed that Dumbledore had confirmed his suspicions.
"I've entrusted you with many responsibilities recently, Tom," Dumbledore said. "While you might relish the burden, it appears your interests lie beyond being a teacher or even in my position. What exactly motivates you?"
With a dry tone, Tom retorted, "I believe we can end this conversation here, Professor Dumbledore. Thank you for the enlightening discussion."
Before leaving, Tom couldn't resist a final barb: "Have you seen Molly Prewett lately? She turned in her last assignment, which was nothing short of catastrophic. Her brothers consistently submitted much higher-quality work."
Leaving Dumbledore in the wake of his annoyance, Tom descended the stairs and exited Hogwarts. There were matters to attend to this evening and an important discussion to be had.
Upon arriving home, he sensed his wife's presence in the house, reassuring him that she wasn't far away.
He found the living room empty like all the ground floor and the first floor. He headed for the attic, his wife's bedroom. She was there with Nagini. Even before she became human, the two had always felt a strong bond between them. In a way, they understood each other because they shared a curse that had plunged them into great loneliness. Nagini for having slowly become a snake incapable of communicating with humans and Meroe for her gift which had driven her away from everyone she had encountered. If Tom had not chosen Meroe she would have slowly withered away in solitude and if Meroe had not found Nagini, the Maledictus would have starved herself to death under her rock in Albania.
Without knocking on the door, he entered the room. The two women were in bed and very scantily clad. When he arrived, they froze and Nagini blanched. She shivered before twitching forward. She seemed to melt before returning to her snake form with a startled hiss. Meroe looked at her, pursing her lips, then raised her dark eyes to him.
"It happens to her from time to time, especially when she feels intense stress. Do you want to tell me something? Want to join us?"
"Nagini, go wait for me downstairs," he ordered in parseltongue.
The Maledictus was carried out immediately and got off the bed much more servile as a snake than as a human. When she had left the room he turned to his wife who was casually lying on the bed.
"You always like to take my toys away," she said in a provocative little chirp.
She intended to tickle him. She had wanted to see him crack since she had half kidnapped Lee on Christmas Eve. He had been avoiding her most of the time since then and she hadn't singularly requested his presence since Nagini had returned. Tom made a pout, amused to see her continue her childish little game.
"I'll give you your toy, be patient. It's just another toy I want to see tonight."
She sat up slightly, her eyes shining with new interest. She cast a glance at the double-locked wooden trunk at the back of the room.
"He was not wily," she whispered. "I've been starving him for two days. You disappear for several days and you only come back for him? I will almost become jealous."
"Get dressed and open that trunk," he ordered, his wand crackling with red sparks to stop his simpering.
At that she narrowed her eyes with an air that was both inquisitive and wary. She complied, retrieving her dressing gown from the pile of clothes. With a thin little smile she planted herself in front of him, half-hidden from the moonbeam of the skylight by the huge mirror in her bedroom.
"We need to talk about the Romani boy."
"The little Romani is mine," he hissed dryly. "What he told you did not concern you and will not concern you in the future."
"My mother told you things, cousin. An Augur's last words are important," she replied, displaying her wedding ring, a bluish stone shaped like an eye. " 'Until our last breath,' I have the right to know. Haven't I served you faithfully all these years?"
Tom moved closer to her, illuminating his face with Lumos. The light was so close to his eyes that it completely dispelled the darkness within them. They now shone a clear blue, much like Salazar's. Meroe winced in pain, temporarily blinded. She retreated, but he seized her by the neck before she could vanish.
"Silence. You have indeed served me well, but in return, I've granted you the normal life you desired. You have status, reputation, and all the 'snacks' you want. I've upheld my end of the bargain, even allowing you your amusements elsewhere. Don't push me too far."
Meroe's ethereal eyes blinked painfully toward him, and her playful façade crumbled into annoyance.
"Fine."
Tom sensed that this conversation wasn't quite over, but he pressed on.
"Now, unlock this trunk," he ordered, releasing his grip on her.
She turned away and moved through the darkness toward the trunk. With a touch, she activated the silver serpent on the lock. The sculpted snake came to life, sinking its fangs into her taut index finger before releasing and clicking open. The trunk ascended through seven successive floors and finally opened. A silver ladder appeared at the entrance, and Meroe hurried inside, with Tom following close behind.
As they descended, Tom could make out the figure of Fabian Prewett. After a decade of confinement in this small, dark cell with Meroe, he had deteriorated significantly. He appeared cadaverous, his long red hair hanging lank in front of his sunken, pallid face. The man was filthy, and an overpowering stench of stagnation and filth wafted from the depths of the trunk.
Tom cast a spell to splash ice water onto his face. Fabian stirred, startled by the presence of the Darkblood near him. He greedily attempted to lick the few drops of water trickling down between his nose and parched lips. Rarely had Tom witnessed a more pitiful spectacle, and he took perverse amusement in the wretchedness of it all.
His cousin was leaning towards the wizard, with a wicked smile. Her eyes gleamed in the dark, she took out of her black muslin dressing gown a bar of chocolate which she presented to him.
"Hello, my little dove," she hummed in her deep voice, sounding like she was talking to a servile dog. "Are you hungry? I brought you some sweets, big boy. Look who came to say hello."
The young Prewett painfully looked up at him, when he recognized him, he became even more livid and wanted to disappear behind the chains that held him at the bottom of the dungeon. Meroe seizes the emaciated face to force it to look at him. Tom flicked his wand lightly. At this sudden light, Fabian's eyes were dazzled. He articulated weakly:
"Please, water. Some water."
"You'll get some Fabian," Tom promised, leaning toward him. "Soon all your worries will be over, you'll be able to see Molly and your parents again. She has grown a lot in recent years."
At that name, Fabian's face brightened somewhat. In his hollow, dull eyes a microscopic spark lit.
"I want to help you out Fabian, you'll be better soon. But I need you to do me a little favour first."
Meroe seemed to see where he was coming from, she unwrapped the chocolate bar and shoved a bite between Prewett's dirty teeth, forcing her mouth open.
"No, not sugar, water, please," he whined miserably.
"You're going to get it, my treasure," his wife simpered with the false air of a little girl. "But there you have to eat a little, you're all pale."
She looked like a little girl playing with a particularly deformed and hungry stuffed animal. The young wizard painfully swallowed a few mouthfuls of chocolate.
"You're going out soon my little love," she chirped. "You won't have to worry about anything anymore, we'll protect everyone from Dumbledore."
After all these years and Meroe's good care, he was only a chilled and servile puppet whom she flattered in the same way as her thestrals or the children. With mockery and rudeness by inventing cruel little games. It amused Tom enormously, she had always acted like this with her family, you just had to make sure that she didn't want to start this kind of game with him.
"What… wh-should I do? Prewett slurred painfully, his mouth made pasty with sugar.
"My loving wife will take good care of you and teach you how to resist Truth Serum. Then you will have to tell what I am going to tell you."
As he explained to him what he expected of him, he saw Fabian's face contract, he blanched.
"You won't do anything to my sister and my parents if I do what you tell me?"
"You have my word Fabien Prewett. Yours and yourself will be under the protection of Lord Voldemort."
He tilted his wand at the wizard and whispered:
"Aqua Eructo."
A small stream of clear water spurted from the tip of his wand and he sprayed his face. Eagerly Prewett drank from it with an expression of pure contentment. After a few minutes of pitifully drinking, the redhead raised his head:
"It's okay, I'll lie for you," Prewett braved with a pitiful grimace.
"Lying is a big word, you're still alive after all these years when your crime was punishable by death or imprisonment twice as long in Azkaban . By accepting, we forgive each other for our slippages. You chose life and family, Fabian Prewett. You will soon be able to use it."
He let him fall back into a refreshing sleep and climbed out of the trunk with his wife. She closed it, petting the little silver snake.
"You'll take it from me," she pouted.
"You knew this day would come. Make it presentable and don't suck him anymore."
"Don't worry so much, I'll pamper our racehorse. Dumbledore's death is imminent then?"
She couldn't help her little smirk in the darkness.
"Soon yes," he confirmed. If you listen to me, the little Romani will soon take Prewett's place in your prison. When I'm done with him, what's left will be yours."
She froze for a moment and smiled with thin lips.
"There you are again speaking to me in pleasant terms, dear husband. But shouldn't I swallow it?"
"My plans have changed for him. He must live, but nothing says that he must live in good condition. It seems to make you want it so much that I'm giving it to you," he whispered in a smooth voice.
He was about to leave but she stopped him with a gesture.
"You always know how to give the most amazing gifts," she smiled simpering.
He pierced his mask easily, her thoughts were quite different. Stung to the quick, she formed a serpent's pout. After looking for a moment from which angle to attack to be the most venomous, she spoke to try to close the game and dismiss him.
"You know, you have the curious ability to know exactly what other people want and you choose to despise them all for it. I've always found it fascinating and dangerous."
There, she wasn't lying. Tom casually leaned against the wooden door leaf and smirked.
"That's what makes me more powerful than anyone else. You chose this a long time ago and you didn't get away with it so badly. Don't force me to use the hard way. We get along cordially away from each other, so be it."
"Does that mean you don't want to join Nagini and me tonight?" she cackled, playing dumb.
He gave a disdainful chuckle. She sat down on the bed and crossed her legs suggestively.
"I don't touch small staff and pets. I still have this part of dignity."
"She's human," she hissed. "Just like you, even if you sometimes seem to forget it."
"You try to bite since the beginning of our little conversation, but you do not have an ounce of the venom of your mother," he mocked little touched. "I'll send the human to you as soon as I'm done giving her a little mission. Take good care of your own mission."
She nodded, falling back onto the mattress. She was now staring at the ceiling with an impassive air, no doubt bitter at having to stop there. He left her and went back down to the living room. Nagini sat facing the fire, she had regained human form and had wrapped herself in a cloth stretching one of the sofas to cover her nudity. When she heard the sound of his footsteps as he descended the last stairs, she paled even further.
Tom put on a flirtatious pout. Since returning to the human world, Nagini had been feverish in his presence. Tom had never known her human until recently. She had already been stuck as a snake for years. No one could have missed the beauty of the young witch, but the wizard ignored her superbly. What mattered was what was inside. It was difficult to read her mind too, so she approached him with a certain suspicion just like him. His return to the human world was an unexpected event that had to be used and above all mastered.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, I see that you have resumed human form. You are not very comfortable in my presence from what I have noticed."
She looked up painfully; Tom saw nothing but violent, epileptic flashes. However, she had the intelligence not to try to lie after this rather frontal introduction.
"I feel your magic, Master," she whispered. "She's black and powerful…it's that kind of magic that turned me into a snake. My body doesn't like it."
"Your dear friend Aurelius Dumbledore's magic was probably a little purer than mine. However, he ended up dying from this pure magic, darkness would have been a solution for him. You wouldn't be left alone."
This innocently whispered remark hurt, Nagini froze and stared miserably at the cold stone floor. For years she had entrusted him with a wealth of information about her past of her own free will, never expecting to find human form again. Her loneliness had created for her a fortress with bars of tears and steel.
"You picked up this darkness years ago when you briefly joined Grindelwald," Tom said sweetly, leaning toward her.
"I left quickly," she said, staring at her feet. "I did not want to stay with him, I also left Credence at that time."
"But Grindelwald knows you," Tom countered, insensitive to his clumsy excuses. "I know where he is hiding. I need you to take him a message from me."
She nodded awkwardly, not even daring to try any more excuses. He handed her a coded letter he had charmed earlier.
"Meroe will guide you to his hiding place," then remind him of his fond memories. "Now go find her. My wife longs for your presence."
He smiled at her, friendly. She looked even more mortified and left wrapped in her piece of fabric, clutching the missive to her. Tom watched her disappear upstairs, then returned his attention to the dancing flames in the hearth.
They undulated, greenish and dangerous, quietly locked in the gigantic stone hearth. Tom had always had a particular affinity with this burning element without one being able to call it a gift, he knew very well how to master the flames. For the most powerful of fires, you had to let it breathe and not forget to feed it, otherwise it would crackle and its sparks could spread. Taking care of his family fell under the same cynical logic.
With a wave of his hand, he made the flames in front of him agonize, which died down with a slight hiss.
He found himself in darkness. The fire could easily be put out; his family had understood that for a long time.