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Harry Potter and the Conjoining of Paragons
By ACI100
Chapter 27: Falls From Grace
April 11, 1943
Black Manor
9:45 PM
Dorea excused herself early from dinner for the second family gathering in a row. Last time, the drama over Pollux's engagement to the worthless Crabbe girl had made her sick, not to mention the way her family soaked it up.
Tonight, she had excused herself — not out of disgust over her family, but over the vengeful void of fire that erupted inside her any time she looked at Arcturus. The bastard hadn't even made mention of their situation to their father, who simply eyed Dorea every now and then. He probably thinks we're being childish and arguing over something stupid.
She had considered cursing Arcturus the first night back home. Knowing he wouldn't respond made the entire thing unfair. The balance of power was entirely in her favour. She would be no better than him, mirroring the abuse of power that had her so upset. I'm better than him; I won't stoop to his level.
She wondered what had come over him. She had always believed him the best of the family; the one who would comfort her when she needed him, the one who would listen when their father ignored her, the one who had been there through thick and thin. I can't believe he's doing this to me now.
More than a month had passed, and still, the pain and anger raged on. Still she trembled, nails biting into her palms any time she saw him.
"I thought I might find you here."
Dorea went for her wand, but Arcturus had his out already. He held it defensively and waited. "Go away!" she spat at him.
"No."
The word struck harder than a Bludgeoning Curse. "What do you mean no?"
"I mean exactly what I said. You've been avoiding me all break and now I find you like this?"
"Both of which are entirely your fault!" Shouting in this house was unwise, but Dorea didn't care. Arcturus had probably warded the corridor they stood in already, and if he hadn't, so be it. She was far beyond caring what her family thought of her. She cared for very few of them.
"So I'm right in assuming this is about Pavonis, then?"
It was the way he spoke — exasperated, resigned, and exhausted — like he was speaking to a child he'd known would act up.
Dorea's nostrils flared. "Of course it's about him! He was my best friend, Arcturus; the first real friend I'd made at Hogwarts! What did you think was going to happen? Did you really think you were making my life better by ruining my first friendship? Did you expect me to just smile and thank you for it?"
"You make it sound like I enjoyed it."
"Maybe you did, I don't know. Virgo seemed to enjoy making the same choice before Riddle stepped in."
Her brother ground his teeth together. "I would like to think I'm better than Parkinson."
"So would I, but she at least had the courage to stand up to Riddle instead of putting her little sister through hell because she was afraid of her."
"Making a proclamation in the midst of a crowded room isn't courage. If you disagree, you're in the wrong house."
"My point stands."
"Does it? I'm no Malfoy and we both know that. Funny how both of us had the same idea about getting people away from Riddle. Why?"
"Malfoy didn't care about getting people away from her, he just wanted to antagonize her."
"Do you think so, little sister? Has Malfoy fooled you so completely with his acting?" Dorea opened her mouth but closed it when Arcturus went on. "Abraxas Malfoy is not incompetent. Riddle has made a more dangerous enemy than she realizes. He can't match her magically, but he's still a threat in other ways."
"What's your point?"
"My point is that two of the most intelligent people in our house decided to remove people from Riddle's proximity. Do you think that's a coincidence?"
"I've never once argued that Riddle is anything but trouble."
"Yet you continued floating around her?"
"I continued floating around Harry, Arcturus!"
"It amounts to the same thing."
"No, it doesn't! I'm starting to think I'm not the only friendless one at Hogwarts. If I wasn't, maybe you'd understand that some sacrifices are worth making for people you care about."
"Some sacrifices are suicide. Do you think Riddle's little group of attack dogs is going to break up when they graduate? Do you have any idea what she may lead them to do in the real world?"
"She won't do anything. You underestimate Harry."
Arcturus paused for a moment, then nodded. "I think that last bit is the first intelligent thing you've said tonight. I'll admit, I've underestimated Pavonis — the rumours have made that obvious. I'm just not convinced he can keep you out of the absolute shitstorm Riddle's going to stir up."
"And if he could?" She did not dare hope.
"If he could what?"
"If he could keep me out of danger around Riddle, if he could convince you of that?"
Arcturus studied her for a long moment. "You two think remarkably alike."
Dorea frowned. "What do you mean?"
Arcturus reached into the pocket of his robes and removed a bit of parchment. It was a simple message written in a hand she recognized as Harry's.
Black,
I understand why you've ordered Dorea to cut ties with me, but I want to meet with you and explain why you don't need to. I know that you worry about Riddle, but I honestly don't think Dorea will be in real danger around her.
I hope you respond quickly and that we can meet soon. I would rather Dorea and I not have to deal with this much longer.
Regards,
Hadrian Pavonis
What was it Harry knew that she didn't? Dorea was exaggerating her confidence in him, but he really did seem confident. One of the reasons he had stayed behind during the winter holidays had been to watch Riddle. When they'd returned, Dorea assumed Harry was outplayed. Was it possible Harry really was the one in control?
I have to believe it. "Are you going to meet with him?" she asked once finished reading, taking great care to keep her voice measured.
Arcturus nodded. "I am. I underestimated how much this would affect you and will at least hear him out." He raised a hand to forestall her thanks. "I'm not promising I'll agree with anything he says. I want you to be happy, but not at the cost of your life being ruined without you even realizing it."
Dorea nodded; it was the best she could hope for as of now. She would just have to trust that Harry knew what he was doing.
Meanwhile, in an abandoned classroom back at Hogwarts…
Harry'sshield wavered under the weight of Charlus's onslaught. Elena had said how much power Harry's spells packed, but he had never understood. Duelling Charlus opened his eyes some; the two of them were close to equals in strength. Charlus was more experienced and more technically skillful, whilst Harry had unmatched control over magic.
Harry often wondered about that. Cerastes had implied magic might come more easily once he learned to sense it, but lately, everything felt almost intuitive, not only in his duels, but in his lessons with Dumbledore too.
The only thing he still struggled with was casting nonverbal casting, and only with new spells.
It still threw Charlus off. Harry dropped his shield and counterattacked. Charlus's reaction was a bit slow. He's too used to me incanting. I can use that; he's been trying to get me to see openings lately, let's show him that I listen.
Harry swished his wand and caused stones to rise from the floor around Charlus, who raised his own wand wardingly towards them, waiting to see what form they took. Harry fired a few spells through the gaps between stones to keep Charlus occupied before vanishing the stones and aiming his wand at Charlus.
"Avis Oppugno."
Charlus, having learned from his mistake during the first duel he'd lost, let loose a torrent of flames to intercept the swarm of birds, but they never came. Instead, a volley of arrows sailed straight through the fire, now alight and even more dangerous.
Charlus yelped and dove to his right, which Harry had expected. A well-placed Disarming Charm caught him in mid-dive and, for the second time since their practices had begun, Harry found himself clutching Charlus's wand.
"Bugger!" the Potter heir cursed after regaining his feet. "That was clever; well played."
Harry grinned and tossed Charlus his wand. There really was more to magic than knowing spells and shouting incantations — it was one of the many lessons he'd learned this year.
Harry had mostly gotten over thoughts about his previous life, but it was easy to think them when realizing how much he'd learned or how far he'd come. No use thinking about any of that. What did Dumbledore say back in first year?
"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
April 12, 1943
Horace Slughorn's Office
1:44 PM
Slughorn had repeated his practice from the winter holidays, that being to host members of his Slug Club privately for meals in his office. This time, his conversation with Harry was somewhat different. He was more interested in Harry's work than ever before, questioning him in detail about exactly how far ahead he was in each of his subjects.
Slughorn must have heard the rumours like everyone else and wished to know how much truth there was to them. There was no real reason Harry had for hiding them, so he told the professor exactly how his duel with Cassiopeia had gone.
Slughorn beamed at him. "I'm glad to see that pass I gave you during the holidays is being put to good use," he said with a chortle.
Harry smiled. That pass had less to do with his progress than Slughorn thought, but it had been helpful and if the man wanted to believe he had done more than he had, that was perfectly fine by Harry. It was the exact sort of assumption that would keep Slughorn loyal.
That would keep Slughorn loyal? Merlin, when had he started thinking like that? It was no wonder why so many people thought of Slytherin House as a bunch of manipulative gits if this was how Harry thought after less than a year in their ranks. Yet… it didn't bother him as much as he might have expected, but then again, he had not been blind to his manipulative side. He had lied to a number of people about Riddle, his intentions, and his confidence.
"Thanks again for that, Professor, it's been a big help."
Slughorn waved his hand. "Any time, m'boy, any time. It's rare that I get the pleasure to work with one so talented. My duty as an educator is to make sure that talent is fulfilled in every way possible."
Harry bit his lip; there was something he meant to discuss with Slughorn and this was likely the best opportunity he would get. "Professor?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"How much do you know about Arcturus Black?"
Slughorn frowned. "Arcturus? Why, I've taught him since his arrival here. He's in my NEWT-level Potions class."
"What about as a person? He seems to come to most Slug Club meetings, but he never says much."
"He is a quiet boy, yes. That's really to be expected from the Black heir. Always hounded by the other pureblood children, always pressured by his family to make the wisest decisions — I imagine he appreciates any time he can get alone."
"What is he like? When he's not just being quiet, I mean."
Slughorn massaged his round stomach as he thought. "Well, he's never lacked confidence. I could count on two hands the number of questions he's ever asked me in Potions and the boy's graduating this June."
So Arcturus was sure of his decisions and rarely second-guessed them. That was less than ideal for Harry, but not altogether troubling. Such things were to be expected from one such as Arcturus Black.
"Sir, Dorea's always been a bit distant from the rest of her family. I don't think she cares much for the politics and whatnot."
Slughorn nodded. "That fits with what I know of her, yes."
"Do you think Arcturus is the same?"
Slughorn thought for a moment, then nodded. "I would think so. His father hardly stopped politicking whilst at Hogwarts. I don't imagine it's a coincidence that neither of his children seem fond of it."
So Arcturus's father had forced him into a position he did not wish to hold. That was something Harry could more easily use. It was something he was intimately familiar with; he understood exactly how powerful such feelings were.
Yes, that was certainly something of value. It had been one of the many reasons Harry had changed so drastically. Now, all he had to do was point it out to someone else and hope it led to even more changes.
April 16, 1943
The Dungeons
10:24 PM
So far, spring break had passed in what felt like no time at all. In two days, the students would return to the castle and on the third day, classes would resume. It would be nice to have Elena back at Hogwarts, but Harry had quite enjoyed spring break. Dumbledore had slotted him in for three lessons, he and Charlus had practiced almost every day, and Harry had even slipped down into the Chamber of Secrets.
All in all, it had been productive, and the best part was that Riddle had been shockingly distant and had not seen fit to impose her presence upon him at all.
Until tonight, anyway.
Harry stepped out from a secret passageway hidden behind a suit of armour and into a corridor that always felt drafty. It was the place Riddle had asked him to meet her that night when they parted at breakfast. She was out on her prefect rounds, but apparently, there was something she wanted to show Harry. He almost wished it was something to do with the Chamber of Secrets. He was pretty sure by now she wasn't involved, but there was no proof and he would rather know she was guilty than wonder if she was innocent.
The more Harry thought about it, the more he decided that a part of him wanted Riddle to be the Heir of Slytherin. The unknown was daunting and it had been the biggest obstacle during second year. It was not something he wished to deal with again. The devil he knew was dangerous, but at least he could anticipate what might come next. If Riddle wasn't the Heir and there was another, well, that would just be one more problem added to Harry's list.
Riddle shimmered into being just feet from him. Her Disillusionment Charm was perfect — Harry had never once seen it falter and he wondered exactly how she did it.
"I've always appreciated your punctuality," Riddle said as she began leading him in the direction of the Slytherin common room and, beyond it, the stone steps leading up into the main castle.
"Likewise."
"Who do you think is behind the attack?"
Harry almost stumbled. "What?"
"The attacks," Riddle repeated. "Who is it you think is behind them?"
Their footsteps echoed in the hall as Harry formulated an answer. "I don't know. I'm not sure why you expected me to."
Harry felt something change in the air between them. "I hoped you might be honest."
"Honest?"
"Yes, honest. I know you suspect me; I would rather you have said it."
"And what would have happened if I had?" he asked, knowing there was no reason to argue with her now. "What would you have done? If you were behind them, you wouldn't have admitted it."
"I would have."
Harry's steps faltered. "I don't believe you."
"Nor do I expect you to, but it's the truth."
"Would you tell the others?"
"None but Cassie."
"And me?"
"And you."
"Why?"
"Because if I was behind these attacks, they would be to serve a purpose I think you could sympathize with." There was a long pause before Riddle turned to inspect him. "I once considered doing something similar, but my plans were dashed."
A chill ran up Harry's spine. This was the most openly she had ever discussed the Chamber of Secrets. "And you suspect me of dashing them?" he asked, not knowing where the boldness came from.
"I do. I wonder if knowing my goals would have changed how you acted."
They had reached the stone stairs now and began ascending into the castle proper. Harry felt nervous energy swirling inside him. This conversation was dangerous and he could not fathom why Riddle was having it with him now — unless her plan was to try and pry information from him before making him her next victim. That was logical, but he doubted that was her plan.
"I think you'd have to be more specific about exactly what you think I've stopped. I've had a complicated year."
Emily laughed. "I really do like you, you know — much more than the others. It's painfully dull when people stop viewing you as a person and refuse to engage with you at all."
"Do you like me enough to answer my question?"
She laughed again. "Almost, but not quite. If we're to truly be friends, I won't have you asking such sloppy questions. A ten-year-old could have recognized that as a probe."
They rounded the corner and walked past the Great Hall and the marble staircase, turning down a familiar corridor leading towards the hospital wing. A bright shape glided out from behind the next corridor and Harry almost jumped, but it was just Nearly-Headless Nick. The ghost just dipped his head and kept on moving, shining brighter than anything in the hall as he slowly glided down an adjacent corridor.
"Let me try something different then," Harry said once Nick had glided out of earshot, "What exactly is it you're showing me?"
"Proof of my innocence."
The hospital wing door loomed into view. Emily turned to face Harry and brought a finger to his lips. They burned with an odd heat when she pulled the digit away, but before he could react, she tapped him on the head with her wand and something cold seemed to run down his back.
It was the feeling one got when disillusioned, but it was stronger than the one Harry had used back in the library — doubtlessly one of Riddle's perfect iterations.
Disillusioned and silent, the two crept into the hospital wing. Harry felt for any wards, but there were none. The room itself was empty but for two beds with their curtains drawn, their fabric like liquid silver when bathed in moonlight shining through the window. Riddle swept her wand around them and Harry felt something heavy and oppressive take hold in the air. It was a Silencing Charm — now, they could speak openly.
"Your proof is in the hospital wing?"
Riddle just nodded, stepping forward and pulling back the curtains on one of the two beds. It was Myrtle's. She remained the same way Harry remembered her last — unmoving with pale skin and closed eyes…
Wait… closed eyes? None of the victims attacked by the basilisk could possibly have closed eyes. Not unless the matron had closed the eyelids. Harry forced his mind clear but focused on replaying the exact memory of Myrtle being attacked. In that too, her eyes were closed.
That was not the only odd thing, either. She was paler than usual. That never happened to any of the victims attacked by Cerastes during Harry's own time. And what was underneath her skin? The veins… they looked wrong somehow — filled with something dark.
"She's been poisoned," Harry breathed, connecting the dots.
"Poisoned by the Draught of Living Death," Riddle confirmed in a whisper. "A draught whose ingredients cost a fortune. Professor Slughorn's supply has been out for months; I checked after the first night coming here."
"You have rich friends," Harry whispered back. "Any of them could have gotten you the ingredients."
"Unlikely. Some of the ingredients are shared by very powerful healing potions that are at a premium and almost exclusively being distributed in areas impacted by the war. Cassie could likely have secured them for me, but none of the others. Even then, she couldn't have gotten them without being questioned. I imagine it would have caused quite a stir in her family, one Dorea would have told you about."
"By the time the first attack happened, I wasn't speaking with Dorea."
"Given how long the potion takes to brew, you were still speaking with her at the time its ingredients arrived at Hogwarts."
Harry opened his mouth to counter, but there was nothing. She had him. "You wouldn't have used a potion," he mused aloud, pulse quickening. "It's too easily traceable — you're not that sloppy." Riddle nodded, but Harry frowned. "Why are they still unconscious? The Draught of Living Death has an antidote, does it not?"
"Do you remember how there were screams during both attacks?" Harry nodded. "They were hit with the Cruciatus Curse soon before the potion was ingested."
Harry's frown deepened. "What difference does it make?"
"A large one. The Draught of Living Death slows down all bodily functions. Slower blood flow, for example, is the reason she's so pale. The Cruciatus Curse overstimulates the nerves. Her body hasn't been working fast enough to counteract its effects. If she was woken up right now, the shock and pain might well stop her heart."
Harry's eyes widened. "So is she stuck like this?"
"No. They'll just have to wait for her body to recover in its sluggish state. Once that happens, they can revive her. The other — a third-year Hufflepuff girl — is the same. As I'm sure you expected, she's also a muggleborn."
"The attack earlier in the year," Harry remembered, "someone used the Cruciatus Curse then. They could have been practicing."
"That's exactly what I think he was doing."
"He?" Harry asked, turning to face her, watching for any shifts in her expression. All he got was a nod. "You know who it is, don't you? You've known this whole time."
"I've suspected, but I didn't know until after the Hufflepuff girl was attacked. The sample size was too small. Usually, I would still say it is, but the circumstances are so specific that I think two is enough."
"Who is it?" Harry asked, glancing involuntarily around the room as though the culprit would come for them from the shadows.
"Have you not put it together?" Riddle asked, turning away from Harry and moving back towards the room's exit. "Someone claiming to be an Heir weeks after I reveal myself as a Parselmouth, using a method similar to myths about a monstrous snake some say Salazar Slytherin once controlled? Someone who not only did both of these things, but made sure their first victim was one I was known to have associated with."
It all came together. He had reminisced in the past just how much more dangerous this batch of Slytherins was compared to his own time, but he had no idea just how far the Malfoys had fallen in two generations.
Author's Endnote:
You might notice a stark difference in the prose this chapter. My edits tend to be on the lighter side, but I realized how out of date these chapters are compared to my current style/ability. I put a bit more effort into the edit this week and I think it turned out much better.
Please read and review.
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