Chapter XII: Good Little Girls Wear Ribbons
The spirit of Father Serpent is ever-present in our minds,
That's why we fear what secrets he might find.
Slytherin's Codex footnote.
That fool Edward Lee had sworn an unbreakable oath. And she was his chainer! Medusa couldn't blame the idiot though. She had understood his suffering and his pain. After seeing the carnage left by Eddy as he lay unconscious on the stairs, she realized what an Obscurial really was. She was both worried and fascinated by this power she had seen deployed in front of her.
As she walked out of the History of Magic class, she froze at the sight of the stairs falling apart, her father levitating and levitating the unconscious young man as the shards of stairs were floating under them. She would never have believed such a scene possible.
Eddy was powerful but that power had sunk so deep into his being that it was destroying him.
So yes, action had to be taken, but she knew her father had planned to destroy Eddy. He would as soon as he took hold of the Obscurus within him, she was sure of that.
The thought sent shivers of apprehension through her that Rita, sitting in the corner, didn't seem to notice.
The two of them were in her lab hidden deep in the dungeons, while Peeves hovered nonchalantly overhead waiting for Medusa's Swamp-Cage potion to be finished. From what she knew, he intended to throw it into the Gryffindor common room. Rita finished writing her article for Hogwarts Illustrated, frowning as Medusa added toad slime to her preparation.
"Mmmh, I've almost finished my article, I need a satisfactory header to attract students now. For this story of stairs I had thought of: 'Stay out stray of sillies stairs!' Or something like that. Even if it's been two weeks everyone's talking about it, so you might as well do something selling. Ideas?"
Peeves, his harlequin hat on his head seemed reflective and wrinkled his ghostly gnome head.
"Why not, 'So long, shitty stairs'?"
"The crazy stairs deserves some respect, Peeves," Rita said annoyed. "Ooooh and 'The mad marches are behind us'?"
Inspired, the blonde bent over her parchment as Peeves looked over her shoulder picking his big nose. Medusa frowned as she added the last ingredient. The potion should then be allowed to sit for ten minutes.
"It's not bad like that," said Rita. Always better than what Lovegood and Parkinson can get me for an article. Xenophilius keeps telling me about Horny Snorlak and Parkinson's about beauty potions.
"I can pour doxy bile into her beauty potions," Peeves said playfully. "By the way, does my potion coming, Zaza?"
"It's decanting, you're going to need a little patience, Peeves," Medusa retorted, refraining from rolling her eyes at the stupid nickname.
While Peeves and Rita were busy talking about the article that was going to be mocked up that evening, Medusa pulled out her wand. She had been training for a time to improve and pull off a patronus but again nothing was coming. Her father's silver hydra was still very present in her mind. He had happy and powerful memories because he had decided long ago to embrace the darkness. So, it shouldn't be very difficult to find this kind of memory. Medusa had plenty of those. She had spent her life in the darkness of her swamp.
"Expecto Patronum !" she hissed in a low voice.
But nothing came as usual. Peeves and Rita didn't noticed. Peeves read the article aloud, putting theatrical histrionics into every sentence.
"It is not bad at all!" whistled Peeves. "Are you looking for a new columnist by any chance, my four-eyed bee?"
"I'll think about it," laughed Rita. "Continue the compliments, especially, coming from you it is worth thousands of galleons."
Peeves performed a preposterous little curtsy with a ridiculous smile. Medusa poured her small potion into a vial, which she held out to the poltergeist.
"The Celledswamp will expand more if you launch it on the new moon, which is tomorrow night," she advised him.
Peeves nodded happily and disappeared with his new toy in his hands. Medusa would never recognize him, but she did like Peeves. He was unpredictable, sneaky and eager to tickle others, much like her. Rita put away her parchment and dusted herself off.
"Now can we go to Hogsmeade, Medusa? I'm getting tired of hanging around in this dungeon."
She might have said that with emphasis, she wore a small tight smile. Since their friendship had withered with Bella, things hadn't been the same. As Rita picked up her bag, Medusa called out to her:
"Rita?"
"Hmmm yes?
"Do… you know how to produce a Patronus?"
Surprised, the blonde turned to her.
"It's strange you ask me that, Med. At the end of the summer my mother taught me how to make one. Since it can be used to communicate messages, she thought it would be nice if I knew how to make one, just in case. Expecto patronum!"
From her wand first sprang a light silver filament that compacted into a small ball. The ball then took the form of a small silvery beetle, which hovered gently in the dungeon. Medusa was torn between anger, jealousy and humiliation. Rita knew how to do a patronus and she didn't.
"What memory did you use?" managed to articulate Medusa, -while she was restraining jealousy. Rita removed her patronus and looked thoughtful.
"Our day at the beach in Selsey. Even…even if it ended very badly, I don't think I was as happy as I was there with you two, far from our parents."
The blonde lowered her eyes, sketching a small, shy and embarrassed smile. Medusa understood very well what she meant by that. If since that day her whole life had been a shambles, she had loved those moments spent on the beach with Rita and Bella, swimming with Lee and…
She didn't want to think about it anymore. She extinguished her cauldron, took the rest of her things and followed Rita outside.
"A bittersweet memory remains happy," Rita told her. "You just have to remember what made it flavour."
Medusa nodded weakly. They left the basement and went to the park where Picott checked the exit permits. Apollon Picott was a squib, blind in one eye, with sparse, stringy hair. All the students despised him. Medusa didn't glare at him as he checked the authorization signed by her father and left after Rita. It was Halloween day; Friday classes had been trivialized to let the students enjoy the village before the banquet while a hailstorm was forecast for the whole weekend. Medusa did not know what had enjoined Dumbledore to be so kind, but she didn't want to approach the scabrous old man to find out. It was just enough to enjoy.
They arrived in the village in a few minutes following the stream of students. Medusa noticed Eddy's red hair moving forward, hands in the pockets of his jacket followed by his familiar. Since the story of the staircase, he was often alone. Some students were terrified of him and shrank away from him as if he were a raging beast. Once again, and like every time she saw him or thought of him, a hodgepodge of contradictory feelings mixed in her head as if to drive her crazy.
"Do you think I can ask him for an interview for the staircase story?" Rita inquired who was also staring at Lee who was heading towards Zonko.
"He might make you fly around like Umbridge at the start of the school year, so it's up to you," Medusa teased. "How about we go for a drink at Three Broomsticks?"
Her friend nodded happily and they headed for the pub, pulling their capes tighter around them. The Three Broomsticks was a warm and pleasant bar where there was always a great bustle and even more so when the Hogwarts students were there. They managed to find a place. Christie Rosmerta, a former Hufflepuff student who had graduated two years early, came to take their order.
"A butterbeer for Rita and a Iceynnamon for me."
"Are you going to eat an ice cream in this cold weather?" chuckled Rosmerta. "Watch out, you might get a headache."
She left after this warning. Medusa loved ice cream, but even more so in winter when it took much longer to melt.
"She's not wrong," assured her a voice the girl recognized.
At the next table were Mrs. Prince and her son Severus. The two shared a drink and a plate of treats. Medusa had only met Severus a few times and the rare times they had seen each other, she had always found this little boy very sad. She knew he lived in Hogsmeade with his mother. No doubt, he must have been very lonely and alone when she was teaching at Hogwarts in the absence of her father.
"Hello Mrs. Prince," Rita cooed. "I loved your last duelling lesson."
"Flattering won't improve your grade," Prince gritted. "But keep writing in Hogwarts Illustrated, your style is best exercised by the pen."
"Oh you're the one doing the comics in the newspaper," Severus said. "Mom brings it back often, 'love them!"
"No, it's Xenophilius Lovegood," Rita scowled, "these are only small drawings, he does not have the soul of a real journalist."
Severus looked unconvinced so he returned to his treats while Miss Rosmerta returned with their order. They thanked the waitress. Medusa advised Prince who had gone back to her magazine. No doubt, even here she was listened to them. Even after leaving Echo at Hogwarts, she was never really serene.
Bellatrix followed the Lestrange brothers and sat down at the other end of the pub. She had her bad-day expression but forced herself to follow Rodolphus and Rabastan's conversation. Medusa thought that their friend was bored to death with the two purebloods, but that her father had probably ordered her to stay with them. She hated Cygnus Black even more fiercely, while Rita played mechanically with the straw of her drink. She shoveled in her ice cream with delight and finished it in a few spoonfuls.
"But why do you want to cast a Patronus?" Rita finally asked after half a minute to quench their thirst and hunger. "To send messages?"
"Yeah," she said, watching Prince out of the corner of her eye. "And then it's in the fifth-year program, so I want to get ahead."
All that was left was to find a memory strong enough. Nothing really transcendent, she kept repeating to herself.
They finished and paid for their drinks, then left. Before going to Zonko's as originally planned, Rita hid between two quirky houses to light a cigarette. Out of habit, Medusa said nothing and let her. She wasn't the only one at Hogwarts who smoked, but if her parents found out, the retribution would be even more terrible than when she had run off to join them at Selsey. As Rita exhaled the smoke from her mouth, immediately blown away by the strong wind, Medusa noticed Salazar advancing with a low countenance. He was bent over himself to withstand the gusts. Seeing her twin in this state broke her heart.
"I'll meet you at Zonko's, Rita."
The blonde, who had followed her gaze, nodded and returned to her nicotine stick. Then Medusa set off in pursuit of her younger brother. He had passed through the village. Salazar didn't like crowds or even Hogsmeade. He rarely went there, and if he did, it was often to go into exile near the shrieking shack. And it was there that she found him.
He was sitting on a stone, a thestral by his side, which he caressed with a nonchalant hand. When she arrived, he heard her but didn't look back. Slowly she sat down next to him. They hadn't spoken much lately. Salazar was constantly engrossed in his notebook covered with ancient writings, or absent, probably in the Forbidden Forest. The young girl had always thought that there was a special bond between her brother and her. They had shared the same daily life for years, suffering from the attitude of their mother and their father. They had been protecting each other since birth. But today, this status quo had been reversed, seemingly forever.
They didn't speak to each other for a while. Her twin was bent over his notebook, trying to organize the runes; he was still writing mechanically. Around his neck was still Salazar Slytherin's locket.
"You don't take that necklace off anymore," she finally said, pulling her cape tighter around her.
"Father ordered me to keep it. Good little girls wear ribbons, and well-behaved boys wear their necklaces, I imagine. But at least I have peace," he retorted coldly.
Medusa knew very well what he meant by that. It took them back years. When they were about five years old, before Dumbledore attempted to abduct them, their father had taken them with him to Muggle London. It was one of the first times that they went to this side of London and the report that was offered to them was not very glorious. Their father had guided them in the seedy streets of Whitechapel; they had seen there the misery, the filth and the pitiful air of all these Muggles. He then stopped in front of a damaged and disused building in the middle of the neighbourhood. It was a former orphanage.
"This is where I grew up," he had told them. "In the midst of repulsive and filthy Muggles This place sheltered all my sufferings, you, you are lucky not to know such things."
She and Salazar had stared in dread at this wretched, sordid building. If they were only children, they understood that this place was one of the saddest places to spend childhood. Orphanages were places where we abandoned children we didn't want, as their mother had explained to them later. They had then seen their father set fire to this old building that had been the enclave of his tortures. Medusa had looked at those flames there, fascinated where Salazar had started to cry. As the Muggles called for reinforcements to put out the fire, they turned away.
Salazar had continued to cry and even their father's cold, firm hand hadn't stopped him. A muggle attracted by her crying had intervened. He was the owner of a toy and candy store of all kinds. He had given Sal a lollipop under their father's cold gaze. Medusa had seen things in the window of this little store that she had never seen before. There were rows of well-behaved little porcelain dolls, dressed like little princesses. Then she had seen this child come out with her little doll holding the hand of her muggle father. The muggle girl in pretty pink clothes was smiling in a way she never thought possible and even her father seemed happy with her. She had seen him rub the head of his daughter who had a nice little ribbon in the headband like her doll.
From there, their father had pulled them by the hand, Salazar calmed and silent and brought them home.
Yes, good little girls are meant to be loved, but Medusa didn't feel that way unfortunately.
As she mechanically played with one of the ends of her ribbon, which fluttered in the wind, she stopped immediately when she thought about it.
"Sal, look at me," she whispered. "What is going on?"
Slowly, her brother raised his icy blue eyes to her. They were empty and veiled. It was as if an opaque mist had forever hidden the special glow that used to shine within them. The realization was so terrifying that she felt her defenses weaken and Salazar's mind connected to hers. What could have pleased her immediately horrified her.
With a bound, the two twins moved apart and fell back into the frozen slush. The thestral made a startled movement and reared up. Salazar immediately got up to calm it down, and when that was done, he darted a fierce look at Medusa:
"Wh- but what did you do, Medusa?" he breathed. "The Unbreakable Oath?"
"As if I had a choice, Sal," she retorted shrilly.
Her younger brother bent over, holding his chest. No, what he was touching seemed to be the Slytherin locket. Before she could ask any more questions, he got to his feet and spat with a snarl she had never seen from him:
"He will succeed. He will succeed in making us become like him. With you, it was an easy game."
And he ran to disappear into the undergrowth, the thestral at his heels. Medusa could have pursued him but didn't have the strength. Her little brother was changing under the tutelage of their father, and she who had always wanted to protect him could do nothing anymore.
She fell back into the mud under the freezing wind. And there, for the first time in years, tears welled up. She curled up against herself to hide her tears and protect herself from the wind. Nothing made sense anymore. She no longer had Sal, she no longer had Bella, and she had hurt Lee tremendously. All of this brought her no joy.
"Ooh, Med," she recognized Rita's voice.
She had just arrived and was carefully descending the slippery slope in her vertiginous heels to sit beside her. Medusa didn't even think of hiding her tears from her; Rita sometimes cried too. What was needed was to do it with someone you trusted.
"Do you want one?" asked the blonde tenderly, offering her a cigarette.
"No," she gasped. "Keep your filth away from me."
"Never mind. It will help me more. Do you want a hug?"
"Y-Yes."
Rita agreed to offer her one because she herself must have needed it. The two young girls hugged each other, and it was something warm, soft, and comforting. This brought her a little joy deep in her heart.
.
.
As soon as Eddy left the infirmary, he felt even less welcome than before. Students who had grown accustomed to him last year now feared him and hurriedly moved aside when they saw him.
He no longer spoke to many people. Even Gwendal and Kheiron, after he had confessed to them that his treatment was no longer sufficient, had distanced themselves. Somehow, he did not blame them. If he had been told that a very dangerous individual was nearby, he would not have spontaneously approached them. Or maybe he would, he thought, returning from Hogsmeade having bought nothing. Because tonight, after the Halloween banquet, he would have his first lesson with Professor Riddle.
He had sworn an Unbreakable Oath and could not go back. With these bound promises, however, he had a little more confidence in this man. He couldn't harm Dumbledore by using it or fundamentally hurt him. At least, he hoped. He went to sit against a stone bench wedged into an alcove in the hallway. Here, he was pretty much hidden and could observe everything that was going on. Charm seemed content with his find and nestled between his legs while conscientiously cleaning his tail. Like him, Charm liked this kind of hidden place while being in the center of the action.
So, he rested his head against the stone wall, struggling to keep his eyes open. He was still so tired and downcast.
Newt and Tina had no news from him yet. If he couldn't tell them that he had made an Unbreakable Oath with Professor Riddle, when Newt had advised him to stay away from him, he also felt shame.
Perhaps he had let himself be swayed by his desperation and was about to make a monstrous mistake.
"Mr. Lee?" McGonagall called out. "Is everything alright?"
The professor stood there with a worried frown, observing his drowsy expression. She sat down next to him, and Charm immediately nudged her for pets, which she obligingly provided.
"I'm fine, thank you," he replied out of habit.
McGonagall didn't believe him, so he straightened up a little to appear more alert.
"Albus has briefed the faculty on your deteriorating condition, so I don't think you're well, Mr. Lee. It would be wiser to go and rest so that you can better enjoy the banquet with your comrades."
"Probably, yes," he admitted without moving.
If he wanted to take a nap here, no one could blame him if they took pity on him that much, he thought resentfully. McGonagall gave him a slight smile, seeming to read his thoughts.
"Perhaps it's not so much rest you need, but company. You were spending a lot of time with Salazar Riddle last year. You made a lot of progress with him, and you're still making progress, at least in my subject."
She summoned a scroll that materialized in her hand. Eddy recognized his clumsy handwriting. He had taken the exam at the beginning of the week, in Transfiguration. McGonagall had written and circled in red an E, for Exceeds Expectations. A glimmer of joy touched his heart as he reached for the parchment.
"It is true that, given your situation, you might consider that everything is over and that you can do nothing more. But don't be in such a rush to leave us, Mr. Lee. I will not tolerate a student who has made such great progress not finishing the year with an even better grade."
She got up stiffly, gave him a last small smile, and headed down the stairs. So much for his nap. Eddy tucked the parchment into his pocket, feeling somewhat calmer as Charm curled up against him.
The Halloween banquet had been presented to him as one of the best times to spend at Hogwarts. He easily understood why as thousands of little candles floated above his head, along with hundreds of bats trained by Hagrid, bringing sweets and candies to every student they passed. It was a beautiful and captivating sight. The ghosts had decided to put on a little show. Nearly Headless Nick and the Fat Friar kicked off a reenactment of an Arthurian legend, with Peeves acting as a commentator, shouting into a glass as if it were a microphone. The students and the teachers appeared to be enjoying it. Except for Professor Riddle, who, as usual, did not partake in the merriment. He looked bored to be there and was reading a book beside his plate.
Salazar seemed to be imitating his father at the end of the Slytherin table. When he noticed Eddy, he glanced in his direction but quickly averted his eyes, returning to his book. The banquet was splendid, and undoubtedly the food was delicious; the kitchen elves had outdone themselves. However, Eddy wasn't hungry; his chronic nausea was now compounded by the apprehension of his upcoming session. The dinner concluded amidst a jovial atmosphere, though Eddy had not been a participant. He left the Great Hall amidst the stream of students, with Charm in his arms.
After moving away from the crowd a bit, he gently set down his Kneazle.
"Go back to the common room; I'll join you shortly."
Charm let out a concerned little meow, but Eddy scratched behind his ears before the Kneazle trotted away. Then, he climbed the stairs to the second floor. When he reached the hallway, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He was signaled to enter. Professor Riddle was already in the room, the classroom having been cleared, and the large lunar globe cast a purplish glow. In this light, the charming professor appeared pale and spectral. He gave Eddy a serene smile and motioned for him to join him in the middle of the room.
Eddy complied, suppressing a tremor. He thought for a moment about running away again. There was nothing in their contract that said he couldn't quit, and that thought somehow gave him courage. He was still master of the situation on this subject.
"So we're going to resume our sessions where they left off last June," Riddle said in a cold voice.
"So, out of legilimency. Who is V-Voldemort?"
"Don't say that name! " he hissed in such a sharp tone that Eddy had to suppress a cringe.
Professor Riddle seemed to admonish himself quietly as he continued in a clearer voice:
"If I consider your progress sufficient, perhaps I could tell you about Lord Voldemort."
Since he was under oath anyway, he couldn't say anything. Eddy nodded. The professor's concern at this surname was more tenuous but similar to that which he had revealed in June and this intrigued the teenager a great deal. He hadn't forgotten and probably never will forget what he had seen in the man's memories, that little boy in front of a burning building.
"Have you made any progress in researching your past?" Riddle finally asked, darting his cold eyes at him.
Because he did not answer, Riddle clicked his tongue on his palate.
"These are things I would see anyway, so let it be said. We have very little time ahead of us and I don't want to waste any more."
"I…I remembered my father. I went back to where he died and where I was found. My father shot me, that's when the Obscurus in me woke up, and I killed him."
The glint of interest in the professor's eyes worried him. Everyone he had told this story to had been horrified and distressed, but not him. Afterwards, Eddy understood better why this teacher intrigued him: Eddy did not want to inspire other's pity and Riddle had absolutely none. And that was as new as it was pleasant somewhere.
"Alright. Let's start with that then. Legilimens."
She had left him alone with him. And he didn't want to let go of him. For what? Why didn't mom take him? Because he was a monster, as his father said?
"Dirty little bastard! You are alone; she left you here because you are a violent and dangerous creature! She'll come back when I get rid of you."
Danny Lee turned him around to strangle him. He had titanic hands, just like the rest of his frame, he was monstrous. A reddish monster was going to destroy him. This thought paralyzed him. He felt deep inside him that thing that terrified his father and that had scared his mother away. He felt the thing force his father away. He ducked out the door. He had to go and join mum. She must have been in town. He had to find mom or Bibi Zelda. He didn't remember her well, but he knew Aunt Zelda was able to talk to Dad.
"Dirty little bastard!" he heard screaming behind him.
His father had taken the rifle he used to afraid the foxes near the caravan. He shot. Eddy felt the bullet pass through him. He collapsed in pain. No, he was getting weak…the thing was coming and it would be worse than anything. As he felt himself go, he felt the thing take over his body. As in a rewound film, he felt the bullet leave his side to hit his progenitor. No! He no longer had control! He felt himself explode.
The thing was there.
And him, where was he?
Who was he? He could smell the smoke, and the heat of the fire. It felt good, he wasn't cold anymore, he was fine.
He was so good.
"Thunderbird, Newt… Do you see what I see?"
Whose voice was this? What was she saying? He didn't understand. Who was this woman, and where was she? He couldn't see her. He didn't want to see anyone. He wanted to stay in the fire. He needed that warmth; it was so cold outside. However, he felt that shapes were beginning to take form around him. He slowly opened what must have been his eyes. An old man was leaning over him.
"Hello, my name is Newt. This is Tina. It's going to be fine, my boy. Don't worry, it'll be fine."
He did not understand what was being said to him. But there was something soft and calming in the old man's voice that he didn't know. It was new and unsettling.
He felt someone lifting him in their arms. So, he had a body? That too was new. He didn't know, but he liked it immensely. It was as warm and pleasant as the fire.
Eddy was the first to break the contact, out of breath. He fell to his knees and had to hold himself back to avoid throwing up. When he looked up, he saw in horror the classroom desks levitating around him. Some were on fire; others were swinging frantically around the large lunar globe. Panicked, he crawled backward like a crab. His magic pulsed furiously inside him. His mother had left because of him. He had done something to her too!
Riddle had not moved. With a wave of his hand, he set the class back in order and extinguished the flames. Everything suddenly seemed calm, unlike his heart, which was about to explode inside his ribcage.
"Let that fire explode, Mr. Lee," hissed Riddle. "Go for it."
"N-no!"
"Should I shot you, like your filthy Muggle father?"
No! This time the Obscurus responded with a raging scream within him, and a long column of smoke shot from his wand towards Riddle. He disappeared behind the burning curtain. Eddy suppressed a gasp of terror.
"A very impressive start of Fiendfyre, Mr. Lee," Riddle said, brushing the flames aside with the back of his hand.
They disappeared behind him. The classroom was now quiet as a sweaty Eddy panted. It had been a long time since he had felt so well. He had just cast a high-level dark magic spell and felt nothing but relief. His Obscurus was silent, and his fatigue had lessened. Riddle leaned over him and helped him to his feet. He found that he was standing quite steadily and wasn't shaking as he would have expected. No, he felt incredibly good.
"For a first session, that's very satisfying," Riddle confirmed. "The Obscurus has not yet fully revealed itself, but your memories are fueling it now. How do you feel?"
"Really good," Eddy confessed, nodding slightly.
This answer seemed to please him. Riddle summoned a parchment where he took notes.
"We will continue our sessions, which will initially involve channeling and releasing this excess energy within you. Understand that if you feel prepared to confront your past, you must first confront that entity within you. With the Illuminial that you take in high doses, your magic is suppressed within you, which in turn feeds this entity, as you call it."
"Are you suggesting I stop taking it? But I'd become dangerous!"
"Even when taking your potions, you are dangerous, Mr. Lee. Accept it, and you will eventually gain control."
Eddy lowered his head. He knew his teacher was right. But to stop taking his treatments when they had been part of his daily life for over four years? It seemed like a terrifying leap into the unknown. Yet, he knew, even before his teacher mentioned it, that his magic was being suppressed. He couldn't simply let this entity slip away when he lost control.
"That's enough for tonight," Riddle said, pushing his parchment away. "I will send you the schedule for our next lesson shortly. Don't get caught going back to your dorm and you'll be fine."
He opened the door to the classroom with the back of his hand and motioned her out. Eddy complied without a word and the door slammed behind him as soon as he crossed the threshold. He walked back to his common room like an automaton. When he arrived in the common room, he thought it was empty, but there was someone on an armchair near the greenish hearth of the fireplace. It was Bellatrix facing the fire, her eyes red and cheeks moist. When she became aware of his presence, she became livid.
"You, if you go-
"I don't care," Eddy answered honestly. "We all have our little secrets. Good night."
He turned away stiffly and went up to his dormitory. Charme was waiting for him on his bed. The others were asleep and had their bed curtains drawn. He took his toiletry bag and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, he opened his bag. The small vials of Illuminial were neatly stored and waiting to be consumed. He stood speechless for a moment until he noticed a silhouette in the reflection of the mirror. Surprised, he dropped the vial that crashed to the ground. It was Salazar sitting right in the shower. He was always scribbling in his eternal notebook. He looked up blankly at him and looked even more inscrutable.
"I know what you did."
Eddy gritted his teeth. Salazar got up, he still had around his neck his strange medallion which he held tight in the palm of his left hand, the other holding his notebook. Sal sat nonchalantly against the sink next to his. He had that expression in his eyes that reminded him terribly of his father.
"Are you going to say something?" Eddy finally questioned.
"Are you better?" Salazar retorted, staring at the tiles on the ceiling.
"Yes."
And again, he was sincere. Salazar toyed with his jewel and mechanically pulled it back and forth. Under the torches in the bathroom, the diamonds seemed to emanate black and furious waves. Eddy felt it. Salazar noticed his gaze fixed on the locket.
"It's Salazar Slytherin's locket himself. My father lent it to me before the start of the school year so that I wouldn't suffer any more. After what happened, I wanted it to stop so I put it on. It worked… For a moment, I felt nothing at all. Then I saw what you did with him and Medusa. And for the first time since the beginning of the year, I felt something. Fear."
Eddy did not see where Salazar was coming from. He tugged on the medallion.
"I don't know what spell is on that locket, but it's bad, really bad. Sometimes it totally controls me. I can not anymore…"
For the first time since back to school Sal was letting out real emotion and it was panic fear as he tried to pull the locket that seemed to be struggling in his hand. He understood that the chain was bewitched to stay around his friend's neck. The black and dangerous waves were therefore not an imagination of Eddy. He himself was a concentrate of black magic, normal that he could see that of others. After casting a Fiendfyre just a few minutes ago, Eddy saw things from a different perspective now. He approached his hand to the jewel.
"No!" Sal hissed, stepping back. "Go away!"
But Eddy grabbed the chain. He took it off his comrade's head and threw the medallion across the bathroom as if it were burning his hands. Turning his hand over, he was shocked to find that he was indeed burned. The pain surged, and he suppressed a scream between his teeth, then dipped his hand under the water. Salazar fell back against the wall, drained of his energy. He was breathing weakly, gasping as he rubbed his chest where the locket had been earlier. The tables had turned tonight, Eddy thought as he slid against the wall next to his friend.
It explained so much about Sal. His father had kept him under remote control. Once again, rage seized him against Professor Riddle. But he couldn't do anything against him; he had taken an oath.
"He bewitched you so you couldn't stop me… and isolated me… until I was under his control," he realized.
Salazar coughed a little. He had finished massaging his chest and lay sprawled like a rag doll. His breathing had calmed down, and he fixed his icy blue eyes on Eddy. This time they were no longer empty; genuine emotion shone inside.
"With Medusa too. He made her jealous with the locket. And it worked very well," Sal breathed. "I couldn't see anything. As soon as I put the medallion on, it's like I'm in a bubble… I'm sorry."
"Not as much as I am, believe me."
They fell back into silence. Eddy stood up; despite the burn on his hand, he was doing surprisingly well. He put his hand under the water again to alleviate the pain. Salazar still couldn't move from the backlash of the spell. Eddy spotted the necklace at the other end of their dorm bathroom.
"What are you going to do with that locket?"
"Make my dad think I'm still wearing it, I suppose. Either way, he got what he wanted. Accio."
The medallion landed in his hand without burning it. Salazar forcefully shoved it into his pocket.
Eddy suggested they go to bed; Salazar nodded but couldn't move. He was feverish and trembling. Eddy gently grabbed his arm to help him stand and support his weight as Salazar swayed. Eddy, however, felt good enough not to flinch under the effort. So, on his way out, he noticed the small vial of Illuminial was broken. With a kick, he hid the remains and broken pieces behind the cupboard.
Then, they went to bed together.