Chapter XXII: Help me
Under the sweet branches of the love tree,
Of a hot summer and pureblood not to pikey,
Can you perhaps make the chrysalis,
Prompt to make birth, what do we call Rosarids?
Gifted with the flora, they're not strong heads.
But they are among the most talented,
To identify poisoned plants.
It will be necessary in the future, blood of blood, to try to mix
Bloodpoison and Rosarid for a more refined bliss.
Note to the Gifts # 9
Tom was furious. It had been twenty minutes since he meandered in the darkness, lighting up around him. Meroe had fled the second they arrived from the audience, just as Medusa had.
He had avoided the most pressing and was enraged to see her continue this stupid little game. She had stuck her hairpin in his hand as bait. If naturally occurring spells protected him from physical attacks, she had managed to plant it hard enough to hurt.
At the last second, the shadow was speeding past him. His cousin was fast, because what is made of shadow is ultimately made of light, or rather, the absence of it. It was thus necessary to go faster than this moving form or to burn it.
"Show yourself!" hissed Tom harshly. "Don't delay; wasn't that what you wanted? Consume Dumbledore?"
"Assure me that you won't hurt me!" His wife's voice screamed from a corner of the room behind him.
He illuminated with a lumos, the shadow flew, and he pursued it to the bottom of the swamp, evaporating. He returned to human form while inspecting the darkness of the place. He was deep in the swamps of Salazar, far from the thestral enclosure.
Here, the magic was blacker and darker than in the rest of the mangroves. The opaque, bewitching mist that had seen hundreds of Muggles wander over the centuries made it impossible to see where his prey was.
"Swear it!" a voice hissed in his ear, caressing his cheek.
"I promise not to torture you; now get out of your swamp if you want to swallow anything," he hissed, moving away.
Slowly, he felt the Darkblood's presence increase behind his back. He turned to grab her by the wrist as she tried to smack him. They stared at each other until she pitifully dropped her makeshift weapon, namely a tree branch.
"Have you forgotten that Dumbledore still isn't dead?" he hissed. "Do not infuriate me more when you are about to undergo weeks of torture beyond your imagination. Your little games with Prewett will look like kitten bites next to it."
She glared at him imperiously, her eyes black and shining as the wings of her nose throbbed.
"Cursed be this trial and these judges! Your laws, their laws are worth nothing; only blood money counts. The two old men have humiliated us!"
"Then let's take care of them quickly."
Her features hollowed out more when she couldn't let out her voracious and hungry look. It had been a long time since she had swallowed a human body, and that void was crying out to be filled.
Instinct calmed her; Tom forced himself to do the same. He grabbed her arm harder and affixed extra wards to the swamp. They Apparated immediately afterwards.
They were in the north of England, on the cold, icy shores facing Azkaban Prison.
Here, night and darkness were powerful, and the moon was absent. Her cousin shook with small tremors of magic as she almost disappeared into the darkness. Only the bones of his long nose shimmered slightly out of the darkness, like a strange, frothy lump in the sea of ink. It was so like the black sea that lay before them, while the tower of Azkaban was just a dangerous speck on the horizon.
With an impatient snarl, she held out her hand to him, which he took. It didn't take any energy from him, but it pulled him into the darkness, sinking into the dark waters. The water didn't wet him; it was as if the very moment they came into contact with the blackish waves, they had crossed a mirror into another world.
Here reigned the darkness; it was just necessary to let oneself go while his cousin opened a passage towards the tower. He emerged coldly from the darkness. They were on the first floor of the tower, serving as the guard post of Azkaban, without having triggered the slightest alarm.
Exceptionally this evening, the shift had been badly distributed by the aurors, and none were present in the prison. The Dementors hadn't noticed them and rippled outside in a chilling ballet as piercing screams echoed through the walls.
"What a terrible place," she whispered, invaded by the unhealthy aura of the place. "All those cries of pain that call to be engulfed..."
"Azkaban was previously the lair of a dark mage, Ekrizdis. He created this islet to lure and torture Muggles before killing them. Dementors would have been the least scary thing found there when he died," he smiled as he opened the door.
He then cast an icy glance at his collaborator.
"I recognise in him a certain sense of style and interesting advances in black magic. How to make a dementor, for example, with you, it would be as easy as murdering a baby, my dear."
She had the intelligence not to retort anything and slipped into the darkness behind him through the corridors of the fortress. Tonight, no one was to interfere; it was his victory after all these years of supporting Dumbledore. He was finally behind bars, alone, humiliated, and at her mercy. Tom was going to kill him, and imagining the spark of life leaving this old man's eyes gave him a sharp, brutal pleasure of anticipation.
Tonight, the world would be his; there would be no more obstacles.
Dumbledore was incarcerated in a cell on the fifth floor, as Rosier had told him, and he had had his cell prepared even before the trial. They disappeared into the darkness, unseen by the other prisoners, in a concert of mournful agony. Finally, they arrived in front of the cell. The old man had not been able to escape, so he was alone, wandless, and entirely at his whim after years of waiting.
Tom stepped forward with his wand outstretched. Dumbledore sat quietly in his ridiculous stone prison, his weary face half-hidden in darkness. To see this man, who from the first day had confronted him finally at his mercy, gave him palpitations of cruel pleasure.
"You were not long in coming, Tom; it will have spared me the wait. Good evening, Mrs. Riddle. Believe me, I'm sorry for my brother's attitude towards you. He never had his tongue in his pocket."
She growled something acerbic in her beard.
"You and your brother are going to die, Dumbledore," Tom whispered with relish. "The school belongs to me; you're finished. You lost. Bow to Lord Voldemort."
"Old age and something like a semblance of self-esteem prevent me from doing such a thing, Tom," Dumbledore replied courteously. "However, I take note of the invitation."
Behind him, he felt Meroe approaching the bars with an inquisitive pout, waiting for his answer, which was not long in coming. He cast the spell borrowed from perverse joy.
"Crucio."
The old man in his cell fell to his knees, moaning. Tom pushed the spell further until he heard his scream in concert with the other condemned.
"The world ahead will be a better place thanks to me. I am the most powerful wizard to ever exist, and you are down, Dumbledore. I knew how to master the darkest and darkest secrets of magic. You would have seen it if you hadn't taken pleasure in this mediocrity that characterises you. Today you have lost; you are alone, and two of your enemies are outside. Grindelwald will soon be joining you in your grave, you crazy old man."
"Grindelwald refused to join you." Dumbledore finally gasped. "Despite the fact that you two very courteously opened the gates of Nurmengard to him. Working for someone was never within Gellert's abilities, an ego you both share. You don't know what danger you've unleashed and what power you want to put under your thumb with young Eddy Lee. It won't only destroy you."
"Avada- _
Just as he was about to say the last word of the spell, a flash of light swept through the tower, blinding Tom and his wife behind him. She let out a long howl of pain. Taken aback, the dark mage couldn't see anything until a thin figure emerged. It was Dumbledore holding Fawkes. Tom cast a hex that was deflected by the power of the Phoenix.
"This habit of underestimating others is starting to get boring, Tom. We will meet again soon."
He gave them a wink and was about to disappear. Blinded, Meroe leaps towards the white mage through the cell to attack him. She let out a high-pitched yelp as Dumbledore grabbed her arm and dragged her into the phoenix's halo. The agony was then read on the face of the woman, who seemed to roast slowly on the spot while Dumbledore drew her to him.
"No! Help me!" she screamed in her agony.
"Meroe!" Tom yelled, exploding with rage.
His magic expelled his wife, and Dumbledore disappeared in a large inferno. Dumbledore had just fled in front of him. The silhouette of his wife was still smoking, the cell was totally destroyed. The dementors and aurors were about to arrive, and his enemy had played him. In a cry of rage, he seized Meroe by the arm.
"Take us back to shore!"
In pain, she complied and rocked, taking him with her. They fell heavily on the shore opposite the tower, from which fumaroles were escaping a few seconds later. Tom then noticed that Meroe had passed out; her injuries were much more serious than he had thought. A whole part of her body was badly burned, and she moaned in pain and hunched over, as if ignited by an invisible fire as she cried.
A smell of burnt flesh was felt and panicked him somewhat; he had no more time to waste. He had to make a choice and couldn't go after Dumbledore now.
He Apparated with her, and when he got home, he let out a long cry of rage. So loud that the thestrals deep in the swamps gave a mournful neigh in the darkness as a swarm of crows flew away in a caw of terror. He teleported them to the attic. Nagini was hiding there and jumped when they arrived.
"By the kalis," the Maledictus breathed, paralysed, barely managing to recognise her comrade.
"Help her! Give her your energy," he ordered.
Meroe emitted a long gurgle of pain, tensing in all directions. The flames of the phoenix seemed to burn her in an eternal inferno. Nagini pressed her lips against the squib's forehead.
He brought to him several potions to relieve her, but none worked or extinguished the fire in the hollow of his cousin's ribs. He casted a hex to calm her, then another, with no effect other than reading more pain in the rolling eyes in front of him. For the first time, the situation was beyond him, and he felt something icy invade his entrails.
He immediately Apparated to Medusa's room. He knew his children were there; they had heard them earlier. Medusa was asleep, unlike Salazar, who served as her pillow. He was writing his notebook by the light of the wand and seemed terrified to see him disembark because he could not suppress a little "Uh!" of panic fear.
"Come, your mother needs you." Tom had the satisfaction of seeing him be obedient and submit. His only satisfaction on this horrible day was that Salazar rose delicately, tearing himself away from the grip of his sister. He hesitated for a moment, as if afraid he might attack Medusa in her sleep, and then took his hand as Tom led him in a second to the attic. Nagini had given much of her vitality to Meroe, with no result other than increasing her pain. She was screaming like a possessed woman while the Maledictus seemed to be about to pass out.
Salazar was frozen and lost in front of this spectacle.
"Do something!" hissed Tom nervously, grabbing him by the collar. "Take care of her!"
Salazar muttered a mixture of words, trying to ease his mother's pain, but nothing seemed to work. His wife's body twitched in front of them at a grotesque angle and then calmed down somewhat.
"The pain decreases, as if the fire moved away from her. But there is a flame. In her there is a burning flame."
"Dumbledore's Phoenix has marked her; it's a burn that can only end if the phoenix is killed," Tom realised angrily. "The closer the phoenix is to her, the more she will suffer."
And killing a phoenix was nearly impossible. Hatred twisted his features, and his fists were clenched. He absolutely had to unload his rage on someone, but in this room, none of their state of distress seemed to him to be possible. He could barely make out the burnt features of the Darkblood in his bed, but there was something bitter in his mouth. Dumbledore had wanted to abduct Meroe and had nearly mortally wounded her before fleeing like the coward he was. Tonight, Dumbledore cheated him, humiliated him, and succeeded in fooling him. He had to admit it.
A declared war had begun between them after years of simulation. He would return the blows to Dumbledore a hundredfold.
.
.
"Albus Dumbledore, found guilty of negligence, murder, and kidnapping, fled Azkaban the very night of his incarceration! »
That was what the Daily Prophet was saying that Eddy, Newt, and Tina had read with wide eyes that morning at Scamander's Cottage. Since the atmosphere was strange in the living room of the household. Eddy was catching up on his overdue homework with his eyes feverishly downcast on his textbooks as he patted Charm with one hand.
Newt and Tina were talking in low voices in the kitchen, open to the living room. He managed to spot a few snippets of sentences, and he knew his tutors were watching him with concern.
Ever since he got home, he stood at the wand as per Tina's orders. If he had explained to them why he had run away, he would have remained very vague about what had happened at the Riddles house. In light of recent events, they were confused and did not really know who to believe.
"Dumbledore always thinks he's right, but taking children away from their parents is not something acceptable, Newt," he heard Tina whisper to her husband.
"I know," Newt breathed ruefully. "I would have liked to know his reasons."
Since he couldn't concentrate on his Defence Against the Dark Arts manual, Eddy ended up looking back at the article on the coffee table. He had read it no less than three times and was still completely taken aback.
"Finally, Albus Dumbledore has knowingly confessed to the attempted abduction of the children of one of his colleague for the sordid purpose of studying their magic. After the serious attack and having lived through Hogwarts and his escape, it is now clear that Albus Dumbledore is and has always been dangerous at Hogwarts. As feared by the members of the School's Administrative Council. He is not on our side and never has been. While Grindelwald is also free, we can wonder about the ties that still unite the two mages, while the aurors are still investigating his escape from this reputedly inviolable prison.
Professor Riddle, having taken over the post of Headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, assured to your faithful reporter that changes were soon planned for the school. "Dumbledore's obtuse and dangerous view of magic has done a lot of damage; we have a lot to make up for," he said.
While Dumbledore is now a wanted criminal (see wanted notice, appendix), we at least have the assurance that our dear little wizards will be safe from now on."
Eddy strongly doubted that security could be associated with Riddle and was already dreading the changes he was about to make. Riddle didn't need to use him to attack Dumbledore. He had slowly folded his cards, and the old man had fallen.
"If you stopped reading this article to set the table, Eddy," Tina called out. "The content won't miraculously change between rereads."
She left to water the garden with a wave of her wand while Newt finished preparing dinner. Eddy stood up as Charm jumped to squeeze between his legs. He walked to the sideboard to retrieve the cutlery, feeling very weak and sluggish.
"How are you, big boy?" Newt asked, baking spinach-stuffed bread with the tip of his chopstick. "Do you need your potion?"
"No, I'm fine," he replied softly.
Since his return, Eddy has not resumed his treatment. His guardians had noticed his state of fatigue, but especially how any crisis or anger had subsided. He was calm and did exactly as he was told. This seemed to disturb his guardians a little, who had decided to leave him without treatment for observation.
Eddy grabbed the plates and cutlery and arranged them while in the sink bathing Peak, the Bowtruckle, and two small nifflers. They doused each other with water and had diving contests from the brass sponge holder. Newt watched them with a wise, gentle, little smile. The dish, once ready, landed on the table between the cutlery that Eddy had arranged.
"We'll have to add a plate, big boy. Queenie is coming to dinner."
If the news did not please him, he complied while resounding in the garden the characteristic noise of an Apparition. Tina arrived with her sister. Queenie was dressed in a small pale pink shawl over her beige coat. She was dressed much more prominently than her sister, who wore a practical and comfortable housecoat. Somehow it was their complementarity that was the very essence of their bond, the teenager remarked as they entered the kitchen, laughing. Queenie froze slightly when she saw him. He reflexively lowered his eyes as he remembered their catastrophic last encounter at the Three Broomsticks.
There was a moment of hesitation, which Charm filled by meowing for attention. It cut off any embarrassment. Queenie naturally came in and hugged him.
"Hello Eddy. You've grown up again. I have the impression, or it's that I'm getting smaller and smaller with age."
"Maybe a bit of both," he said awkwardly as he pulled away.
Queenie also took a step back before going to kiss her brother-in-law. She greeted Charm with a cuddle as they sat down at the table.
"Lally arrived safely in France?" Newt asked as he served them with his stuffed buns—a new culinary invention on his part.
"Yes, she's in the Camargue; I'll join her by the first Portkey at the end of the week," enthused Queenie. "Thanks Newty. One loaf will suffice."
"What are you going to see there?" Eddy asked.
"It's a very important nature reserve, and the salts are known to be very good for the skin in some potions. Lally is doing some research," Queenie replied softly, cutting off a piece of her bread to offer it to Charm.
The feline sniffed the fried bun cautiously before simply ignoring it and leaving the kitchen indignantly. Tina and Newt laughed at this behaviour, and Eddy tried to keep his eyes firmly lowered on his stuffed bread, which he carefully cut with the tip of his knife.
The three adults exchanged a few small talks, but he still seemed slightly worried by his displayed silence.
"I've got news from Theseus," Newt finally said. "He hopes to take a few days this summer so that we can see each other. Apparently, he met a young witch."
"And you didn't tell me?" Tina exclaimed. "It's serious; oh, I can't wait to meet her!"
"S-Seriously?" spluttered Eddy's tutor. "You think so?"
"If he tells you about her, it's starting to get serious, yes," his wife teased kindly.
Queenie exclaimed:
"You'll let me prepare everything for their wedding, won't you?"
In front of these two whirlwinds, Eddy and Newt were a little overwhelmed and were eating their fried rolls while glancing with complicity. For the first time since his return, the atmosphere was a little relaxed, and he no longer felt above his head the concern of his guardians. Because Eddy knew they had every reason in the world to worry.
"So you go back to Hogwarts," Queenie finally said, calling out to him. "With a brand new headmaster."
"Since the former has become a wanted criminal, perhaps it was necessary to change it," he remarked, swallowing whole the rest of his fried bun.
"Dumbledore is not a criminal," Newt whispered. "Professor Riddle is not innocent, and this lawsuit was only meant to discredit him. Albus made a lot of mistakes."
"Like asking you to take care of the little Riddles?" asked Queenie.
"Queenie!" Tina cried, looking away sharply, confused.
Tina was so uncomfortable that Eddy was speechless; he had never seen her so upset. Not even after the catastrophic episode of Medusa and Salazar in their living room.
"Forgive me, your thoughts were turned on this subject!" defended the legilimens.
"What is Queenie talking about, Popentina?" Newt asked, frowning.
Tina's back was straight and tense as she stared at her plate, searching for words.
"I should have told you about this earlier... It wasn't until I saw Salazar and Medusa at our house that I understood... Ten years ago, Professor Dumbledore sent me a letter. He was telling me about twins with powerful powers who needed a family. He wanted to know if we could give them a home to protect them. He didn't give me their names! Newt, Eddy… I promise you. He told me that their parents were dead! I was planning to talk to you about it, Newt, to find out what you thought about it, but at that time we were arguing a lot with Theseus. So I pushed back. Then he sent me a letter a few months later to tell me that our help was no longer needed, without more information. I do not know what to think anymore.
Dumbledore had lied to her too and had thought of taking the Riddle children away from their parents by entrusting them to nomads, often on the move and thus difficult to trace. Tina was distraught, with tears streaming between the creases under her eyes. She wiped them off with a quick wave of her hand to regain her composure.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Eddy whispered.
"It was a proposal of Albus, nothing concrete, by the Horned-Snake! How could I have known that you would become friends with these children and that they had living parents? Dumbledore hid the truth from me and fled the country."
"He has his reasons," Newt whispered. "You saw what that Riddle did to Eddy."
"He did nothing," he responded while escaping Queenie's scrutinising eyes. "But Dumbledore almost made you criminals."
"Yes," Tina whispered, "he manipulated us and-
"And maybe we could have done something good raising those kids," Newt said with surprising firmness. "But with ifs, we would put Hogwarts in a bottle. Professor Riddle is a dangerous person, and I don't want Eddy to be in danger."
"Anyway, I'm a danger and in danger," the teen replied, pushing his empty plate away.
The adults and Eddy fell silent. Queenie was still trying to read his mind; he could feel it. For a second, he looked up, and their eyes met before he returned to his observation of the wooden slats of the table, completely mortified. The atmosphere of the little light-wood kitchen seemed to him to be unbearable, as if he had been in a cauldron.
"I'm going to take a walk in the garden. I'll do the dishes when I get home," he slipped away.
He left the table quickly as Tina opened her mouth to protest. He walked through the bay window and found himself outside in the cool of the night.
The garden was barely illuminated by a dim sconce against the white stone. In the distance, he could barely see the sea hidden behind the dunes, but the sound of the sea surf mixed with the smell of salt from the sea did him good. He sat down on the swing under the big beech tree, where little glowworms were moving. They looked like little yellow lights in the middle of the darkness.
"Eddy, it's cold, big boy, let's go home," called Tina, who had put a blanket over her meagre shoulders.
He acted like the one who hadn't heard, but the swing lowered slightly as Tina sat down quietly next to him.
"You've been so distant for weeks, Eddy. Since this winter, you have changed; you are withdrawn and hardly speak anymore."
"If it allows me not to die in the year, I might as well try this new protocol," he jabbered, fixing his shoes placed in the grass. "I remembered my aunt," he finally whispered. "It was after trying to leave Hogwarts on Christmas. She said I would bring misfortune. My mom left me with my dad because of that. She must be right; maybe there are people who only bring misfortune to those around them."
He thought of Professor Riddle and the pain of Salazar and Medusa.
"Maybe," Tina whispered slowly. "But you're not like that, Eddy. You have brought us no misfortune, quite the contrary. Despite the hardships, seeing you grow has brought us a lot of happiness and joy."
"Even if the Obscurus grows with me? You have allowed me to grow while you have already faced Obscurials, you know the harm I can do. I almost killed you, Tina."
"I know," Tina replied softly, trying to put her hand on his as he slipped away. "We were aware of the risks, and I remain convinced that we made the right decision. You'll be going back to Hogwarts soon. Newt didn't want me to tell you about it right away, but we're thinking of enrolling you in Castelobruxo for the next school year."
"What? But I haven't found my family yet; I don't speak Portuguese; I have friends here; and-"
"They have the best programme in herbology and lots of plants to heal... and then, considering the speed at which you relearned English, in a few months you will be bilingual. Castelobruxo has a great trading system," answered Tina, who had prepared her arguments.
"But that's not what I want."
"Listen, Eddy, it's getting very dangerous for you to stay in this country. I don't know what Dumbledore's position is, but I've been around Grindelwald and seen Mr. Riddle enough to know to stay away from them. We'll talk about that later, but promise me you'll think about it, okay?"
He nodded vaguely before struggling to get up from the swing. Without another greeting other than a brief wave, he left the garden.
.
.
The following days were quite quiet and calm until the start of the school year. Newt and Tina hadn't told him again about their plan to move to Castelobruxo, and Eddy wasn't keen to remind them.
He boarded the Hogwarts Express practically late, as Bounty the Fire Crab had given birth in the morning, delaying their departure. Tina and Newt couldn't give him any recommendations, as they literally threw him on the train.
"See you this summer; be very careful of yourself. I'm serious," Newt whispered. "Stay away from your Headmaster."
"I think he'll have other priorities than me," confessed the teenager as the train started.
Tina shoved Charm into his arms and then blew him a kiss before her old woman's legs dissuaded her from chasing him all the way down the platform. She screamed as the train left the station.
"Be very careful of yourself! I love you, big guy!"
It mortified him a little in the middle of the hall full of students, but it also triggered something warm in the pit of his chest. He let go of Charm to let him walk in front of him and picked up his things. He hadn't sent a letter to Salazar, let alone to Medusa. He didn't know how they felt. The teenager didn't know what would happen now that their father was the chief of the school.
"Oh, there you are!" Gwendal blurted, opening the door to his compartment. "I thought you missed the train."
"Relax; everyone hasn't even settled in," he growled as his comrade let him in with a chuckle. "Have you seen Sal and Medusa?"
"Yes, we had a good holiday too; thank you for asking us," Kheiron hissed, more mocking than offended. "And to answer you, no. They must already be at the castle."
Gwendal's cousin, Longbottom, was on the bench opposite and was reading an edition of Manly Sorcerer, looking very interested. He gave him a vague nod in greeting. He had Knut, Gwendal's little niffler, on his knee, and Eddy had to tug on Charm so he would not tease the little creature.
"Sorry," the teen growled at Kheiron. "Did your vacation go well?"
"If one wants to, 'couldn't finish my Defence Against the Dark Arts essay," Kheiron mumbled. "Ten inches of parchment in ten days? Who has time to do this? Now that Riddle is headmaster, I imagine Prince will teach us. She gives less homework."
"That explains so much," Gwendal thought aloud. "Salazar's weird attitude at school. Me too; if I were in the same place as the wizard who tried to kidnap me, I wouldn't be fine."
"I don't believe Dumbledore tried to kidnap children without a very good reason," Longbottom said, closing his magazine. "My mother is convinced that we are not told everything."
"If Aunt Augusta has the same clothing tastes as Dumbledore, that's no reason to believe everything she says," Gwendal retorted to his cousin.
"She was in class with Professor Riddle; she always told me to beware of him," retorted the teenager.
"That's why Gryffindors are insufferable," Kheiron boasted. "They suspect everyone to be a dark mage when our house has the most members of the four houses. We're not all Dark Mages, Longbottom."
"Slytherins also like to put us in boxes," Longbottom remarked. "But we, at least, do things with bravery, without bad ambition."
In front of their compartment passed at this moment Molly Prewett. She was alone without being surrounded by her usual band of friends. The young girl seemed sad and ashamed and moved towards the next compartment, lowering her head for fear of meeting the slightest glance. Eddy had read in the Daily Prophet that her missing brother had come to trial to confess his crimes. If she had found one of her brothers, the reputation of her family would have been tarnished by this scandal.
"And Dumbledore killed Prewett's brother," Kheiron added when the red head had walked away. "No, believe me, we'll be better off without him at Hogwarts."
Longbottom gave up the verbal fighting, as it wasn't worth it in his eyes, and joined Gwendal and Kheiron in an explosive battle game. Eddy, not much fond of card games, leaned comfortably against the bench and took out the book on the Romanies that Charity had lent him. He had leafed through it during the holidays. While most of the information was interesting, Eddy had no idea of its veracity. Aside from the language he retained, his memories of his culture were scattered and confused. He only read a few pages before the weakness of the last few days got the better of him. He fell asleep.
When he opened his eyes, he saw that it was almost dark. His comrades were already in uniform, and the train was beginning to slow down. He had slept the whole trip.
"You should change; the train is at the platform in five minutes," Kheiron pointed out to him, putting away his things.
He complied while Gwendal made a joke about his usual snoring. As they exited the train, they saw Skeeter in a deep conversation with Lovegood and Bellatrix walking alone towards the carriages. The brunette had abandoned the Lestrange brothers but did not tried to speak to Skeeter. Rita joined their carriage when she noticed Eddy.
"Med and Sal didn't get on the train," the blonde observed unhelpfully, sitting between Gwendal and Longbottom quietly. "Were you able to send them letters, Lee?"
"No, and you?"
At the little angry look she gave him, Eddy had his answer. Their carriage, pulled by two thestrals, advanced abruptly, nearly knocking them out of their seats as a light rain fell. The rest of the trip passed in silence, disturbed only by the sound of raindrops on the roof. When they arrived in sight of the park, Eddy noticed that Hagrid was not there to welcome the students; only the janitor was carrying out this task.
"Hagrid is also on the run," Rita said as they descended. "Apparently he was the one who raised spiders in the first place. Since Dumbledore fled, he has completely disappeared; it is even said that he is half a giant!"
"What does it matter if he's a half-giant?" growled Eddy. "He was a very good keeper."
Rita wanted to say something but stopped herself when she noticed Salazar. The boy was in the rain, waiting for the carriages with a very solemn pout. They approached in the rain pouring in torrents in the park. Apollon Picott even struggled to stop the wheels of the carriages, which got stuck in the icy mud. Eddy was cold; he wanted, above all, to go home, and Charm in his arms was shivering. However, the teenager was very worried about Sal's icy gaze.
"Are you okay, Riddle?" Kheiron asked uncomfortably in front of this cold look.
The boy did not answer. He seemed to be waiting for someone in the carriages. Gwendal and Kheiron glanced warily at each other and then made their way to the Great Hall, draining each other as best they could. Longbottom followed them, glancing suspiciously at the young Riddle. Rita had taken shelter at the entrance but was burning to question the young man.
"Sal?" Eddy asked again this time. "We'll catch a cold if we stay here. We should go to the Great Hall."
He repeated his request until Sal finally left his thoughts and followed him. He continued to glance behind him to see who was emerging from the carriages. He looked tense and angry; Eddy had rarely seen him in this mood.
"You…Medusa, how is she?" Rita asked after some hesitation.
"Bad," the teen replied gloomily, walking past them completely soaked.
They followed him to go to the Great Hall. The doors were wide open, and most of the students already seated were drying themselves either with their linen napkins or the ends of their wands. Eddy spotted Medusa at the end of the Slytherin table. She was staring at the end of her fork, frozen like a statue, and was not interested in anything around her. Her eyes were sunken and tired, and she didn't even look up when Rita sat down next to her to talk to her.
At the table, Mr. Riddle sat in place of the headmaster. His colleagues oscillated between approval and a certain embarrassment, given the particular ousting of his predecessor. Charity was at the end of the table and was still slowly recovering from her injuries. Riddle was smiling, proud, and haughty, and even gave a small smile to Eddy and Salazar, who couldn't suppress a shudder. The last students arrived. Eddy noticed Rosier entering the Great Hall. He had lost his proud and mocking look for a slightly more worried look because he went to sit down, lowering his head. Salazar watched him, his jaw clenched, and then a few seconds later, McGonagall called for silence.
The students turned their heads towards the staff table. Mr. Riddle rose in a carefully studied movement of black cloak and offered the assembly of young wizards a charming smile.
"Good evening, everyone. I am aware that this end of the year takes on a particular flavour after the troubled events that we have experienced in this school. Albus Dumbledore has disappointed us all greatly, and his escape may cause concern. But believe me, all that is now behind us. The past is over, and it is to the future that we must turn. Changes are planned for the school at the start of the school year. Therefore, I will have to leave my position in the hands of Mrs. Prince, who will undoubtedly have the entire grip required for this full-time activity. Thank you."
There was no applause, just a vague look of confusion on a few faces before finally McGonagall gave the applause with the tips of her hands in a pinched look. She was followed by almost the entire Slytherin table, a few Ravenclaws, but very few Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs who wore an angry expression. The dishes appeared in their gold dishes. Sal didn't show any desire to eat; he was staring at his two joined palms in front of him and seemed to be thinking deeply. Eddy didn't know what this was going to produce. As he gave Charm a piece of herring, the teenager watched Medusa. She stood with her head down without eating, and even Skeeter had given up on talking to her.
When dinner was over, Eddy jumped up to talk to her, but he noticed that Sal had tailed Rosier out of the Great Hall. Eddy took turns watching the Riddle twins before chasing after Salazar, leaving Charm behind on the bench.
Rosier began his prefect's rounds towards the second floor. Salazar quietly chased after him, and when he noticed Eddy following him, he only frowned. When Rosier started down the hallway on the second floor, Sal didn't give him time to react and rushed at him to drag him towards the girls' bathroom. From there, Eddy leapt to his feet to follow his friend. In the girls' bathroom, Salazar was meticulously beating Rosier with his fists.
"Stop! Stop!" cried Myrtle, half hidden in her bathroom.
"Let go of me!" stammered Rosier as the blood flooded his mouth.
The captain was much stronger than Salazar; it only took him one hit to put the teenager down. Eddy took the opportunity to hit Rosier in the temple. He rocked, completely stunned, and Eddy crushed his crotch as Salazar got to his feet. His nose was bleeding, but Sal didn't care. He furiously punched Rosier with his fists.
"That's for my sister!"
"Lee would have done the same thing if he had had the balls to do it!" whispered Rosier between two blows. "I love Med."
SBONK.
Without giving Rosier time to finish, Eddy's anger was enough to catapult the teenager through the toilet. Like a rag doll, he crashed into several successive toilets. And seeing his shocked and pained look made him feel good, even more than the shrill screams of Myrtle. His pleasure was only brief when he saw that Rosier had broken his leg between the scattered wood shavings and the broken toilet. He had many splinters all over his body, and his weathered face was a grimace of pain. Moaning Myrtle's cries finally seemed to reach Eddy's ears, which grimaced. A slight sound of water brought him out of his trance.
Mr. Riddle and Medusa stood at the entrance to the restroom. If Medusa wore an indecipherable expression, Mr. Riddle didn't seem to get his strange, cold smile off his face. He hexed Myrtle, whose cries were suspended as the ghost was paralysed in mid-air. She was no longer moving. Riddle approached his son, who had a bloody nose, and grabbed his face. Sal tried to break free from this hold by opening wide, terrified eyes, but he was held by an invisible net.
"So you are capable of doing harm, Salazar," Riddle whispered as he approached. "So you just need a little motivation."
Riddle then glanced at Eddy. Rosier behind him didn't try to get up; he was paralysed with terror, and Eddy heard his little worried wail. This sound gave him, in spite of himself, a little shiver of pleasure that he couldn't hide from the three other wizards in the toilets.
"Correcting the depraved is a noble business, Mr. Lee, but tonight we won't need your services."
Riddle exchanged a look with his daughter, and Medusa walked over to Eddy. Her eyes were two empty, dark orbs, so dark they reminded him of Mrs. Riddle's. She glanced at Rosier before taking an interest in him.
"Medusa," he whispered. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't need servant knights to defend my honour," snapped the girl. "I take care of it myself. You're going back to your dorm, Eddy; you're going to go to bed. You need sleep."
Under the influence of the gaze of the young witch, Eddy felt his defences melt like snow in the sun. Within seconds, nothing else mattered but to follow Medusa's words. Under the gaze of the three Riddles, he turned on his heels. Behind him, he heard Rosier's terrified squeal, a hiss, and then a thud.
But nothing else mattered. He just had to go back to the dormitory and close his eyes.
.
.
Medusa watched Eddy leave as her father led the way to the Chamber of Secrets. She was feverish with impatience as she gazed at Rosier, painfully stuck in a corner with his injured and bloody leg. The smell of his blood sharpened the senses of the girl, who felt a rise in her violent impulses. Salazar hadn't moved near his rammer and was staring at his hands with a devastated look, as if they were those of a dangerous stranger.
"Med," Rosier tried. "Med… I wanted to do it right; I asked you to marry me-"
"And it's a categorical refusal, Mr. Rosier," whispered her father behind her. "Salazar Slytherin's blood will not be tainted by the filthy veins of yours."
With a wave of his hand, he levitated Rosier, who gurgled in pain, and then threw him into the hole connecting the floor to the basement. Rosier disappeared with an increasingly distant cry.
"What are you going to do to him?" Salazar asked.
"What are we going to do to him?" corrected their father. "You come with us."
He threw him, after Rosier, into the cavernous hole left by the basins. Medusa quivered with impatience. It was for this moment that she had participated in this trial, been silent, and lowered her head for the past few weeks. Her suffering was finally ending.
She exchanged a look with her father, then gracefully jumped into the hole. She slipped for five short minutes, much less frightened than the last time. She knew what was down there and just wanted to be there. She emerged into the antechamber, covered with small skeletons. Rosier was half passed out in the garbage, while Salazar was still frozen. Their father was not long in coming in his turn in the antechamber, his eyes completely red like rubies.
Without waiting for an order or a recommendation, Medusa grabbed Rosier by the hair to drag him to the Chamber of Secrets. Touching this boy revolted her, but the blood and his visible pain kept her going. She heard her dad and her twin walking behind her.
"Open up," she hissed at the door.
With a sinister creak, the bedroom door opened, and she felt Rosier tremble with terror under her fingers.
As they entered the Chamber of Secrets, Rosier had to draw on the energy of his despair to utter:
"Professor Riddle! You can't kill me! My father-
"Your father negotiated with me. Cheer, Mr. Rosier; you will live. In which form? This is another question that Medusa will make sense of."
They were in the Chamber of Secrets, and Rosier was terrified, unable to move, and trembling. Medusa noticed that the bottom of his robe was wet, as if he had urinated on himself. She liked it, and Salazar, who had calmed down, looked worried. Their father held him by the neck to prevent any dodging on his part; he was as much a prisoner as Rosier between his fingers.
"I had to kill him," Medusa spat, letting go of her former tormentor. "You promised me!"
"I'm offering you revenge," her father retorted coldly. "He will pay for the affront he has done to our blood! A semblance of life is the only kindness I bestow on the Rosiers. Is this how you show me your appreciation, Medusa? After your many mistakes?"
Salazar shuddered as his father tightened his grip on his neck. Medusa watched her twin, then Rosier, still wailing at her feet. The choice was quickly made, and she cast a spell to blind the young man. She then turned to the wide stone mouth of the statue of Salazar:
"Come to me, Suzerain, come; your Masters are calling you."
She felt Rosier shudder as she used Parseltongue, and the statue's gaping mouth opened with a dark screech. Slowly, the Basilisk emerged from its hole, as big and impressive as during the Christmas holidays.
"To her masters, comes the beast," muttered the creature in a small hiss.
"Don't kill him," her father reminded her harshly.
Medusa gritted her teeth and turned to see Rosier's body at her feet.
"Crucio!"
The teen's cry made her feel good; it was something she had been waiting for since the moment she woke up in his prefect bedroom. She continued the unforgivable with the tip of her wand, casting the spell more each time Rosier faltered in her cries. She repeated the spell once or twice, enjoying the cries she heard. For a moment, she looked up at her brother, who couldn't keep a calm face. Her soft features were twisted with anxiety and pain as she continued her curses.
"MM-Med! I beg you-"
"I begged you too, and you were ready to go on. You'll see what it's like to die of terror while waiting for the sequel. Play with him, but don't bite him," she commanded in parseltongue to the Basilisk.
The latter seized Rosier in his huge mouth by the end of his wizard's robe and catapulted him into the Chamber of Secrets. Blinded, Rosier didn't know who had taken over his torture; he just felt something huge and a hot, gaping mouth seize him. In the darkness, his terror was increased tenfold by his imagination.
She observed the reptile playing with its prey, enclosing it in its rings to lick it with a viscous and painful drool that would not kill him; she knew that. The Basilisk released the teen to continue dragging him around the room, plunging his head into the muddy water, and then catapulting him across the room. With a thud, Rosier's disarticulated body lands at Medusa's feet.
He was severely injured and covered in drool; the Basilisk's saliva burned his skin in places, covering him with blisters. He was miserable and pathetic, yet that did not really please Medusa.
When the young girl turned to her father, she saw that he had let go of her brother and was watching Rosier's ordeal in an indefinably interested manner.
"How are you feeling, Medusa?"
To say she felt good would be lying. She had been waiting for this moment for two long weeks and had wanted to make Rosier pay for months. But now the revenge smelled like burnt flesh as the Slytherin gasped in pain at her feet.
"I want more," she whispered.
"Everything in its time. Salazar, it's your turn to punish him."
Medusa and Salazar cast an icy stare at their progenitor as the basilisk waited patiently for an order. His younger brother shuddered and tried to take a step back.
"I cannot do that...
"You were doing very well just now," retorted their father dryly. "You may not know how to throw an unforgivable, but you know how to hurt. Take that."
He threw a dagger into her hands, which Sal couldn't catch. The point of the dagger struck against the icy stones with a shrill noise. Sal remained dumbfounded, like Medusa.
"You don't want to avenge your sister for the insult she suffered? Are you at this weak point?"
"He is already in pain; stop! Stop. Stop," Sal muttered nervously. "I do not want. No. No. No."
"I ordered you to do something! Do it!" hissed their father in a voice so high that it echoed through the Chamber in a terrible resonance.
"No!"
"Father, leave him alone! I will take care of him myself!"
"Shut up!"
Rosier's body twitched as they argued. Medusa wasn't sure if he was still conscious enough to understand their conversation, but he anticipated the next blow and spell in horror. The horror was shared by Medusa when she saw that her father had raised his yew wand and was about to strike her brother with an unforgivable.
"Imp- _
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The green ray shot out of Medusa's wand and hit Rosier head-on. What was left of his body was lying dead. She had just carried out her first murder. She didn't get much pleasure from it either, and she thought she was going to die of fright when her father's red eyes fell on her.
As he was going to hit her with a Cruciatus, a dark and sharp mass came between them. It was the Basilisk making a bulwark of his body on Sal's orders. Medusa leaps to get closer to her younger brother and away from the corpse and her father.
"Leave her alone!" Sal yelled, sobbing. "Look what you make us do! Look at! After what you did to Mom and to Mrs. Burbage, you want to hurt her too. You don't want to stop!"
"Leave your mother out of this! Crucio!"
The Basilisk received the spell instead of Salazar grabbing Medusa's hand. The Basilisk arched in pain, and they saw their father's glare. They didn't have to think. Still holding hands and hearts beating, the two left the Chamber of Secrets as a furious scream erupted behind their backs. Medusa arrived at the entrance of the tunnel.
"CATAPULTO!"
Salazar and Medusa bounced against the tunnel walls for a long time but eventually came back up. When they emerged in the girls' bathroom, Medusa and her younger brother could not stand on their feet. They were breathless, terrified, and feared above all the threat that was going to spring from the tunnel at any moment.
"We have to go back to the dorm, Med," Sal sobbed. "Come, hurry up!"
Medusa collected herself; she got up trembling, grabbed her brother under the arm, and rushed out of the bathroom with him. Tonight, she had killed Rosier as she had wished, and it had done nothing to her. Revenge had no taste, and nothing had interest anymore.
Medusa now felt on the edge of a precipice of emptiness, and it would only take a slight breeze for her to let herself slide there.
.
.
No one spoke of Rosier's disappearance in the days that followed. The Lestranges brothers had questioned a few students about the desertion of their friend, but without clear result. It was said that she returned home after a dazzling eruption of Pimplevaricella. Without a captain, and as Medusa had abandoned her position, the team was forced to give up the rest of the Quidditch season.
This news greatly pleased McGonagall, who hadn't removed her smirk from the time their check had lasted. Eddy quickly finished his sentence on the animal Transfigurations on his parchment before it flew away with the other copies to reach the professor's office.
"These assignments will be returned to you next week. I expect excellence from you. However, I must warn you that due to the director's new directives, all those with a below-average grade will be sent to detention. It is effective on my subject but also about others."
The pinched little smile she gave them was more of a warning to be careful than a real threat. Eddy really hoped he had done his homework. The empty chair next to him told him that Salazar would inevitably receive detention for his absence. He had been missing for two days.
Medusa, who got up when the bell rang, didn't seem in the mood to answer her questions. Rita jumped on him and just looked eager to ask him questions.
"No, I do not want it," he retorted immediately, slipping away. "No article on the Obscurial!"
"Wait before jumping to conclusions," Rita retorted, annoyed. "Can you at least listen to me? Come to the newspaper office during the lunch break. We need to talk. Promise no tricks. It's on the third floor, second door after the statue of Berhert Babble."
He consented to give his agreement, frowning.
He went to his Defence Against the Dark Arts class taught by Mrs. Prince. The course focused on wyverns and dragons as well as the best spell to neutralise them.
If Mrs. Prince hadn't brought dragons for practice, the spell would have been easy enough to perform. It was just enough to use pure power. For the first time, Eddy had been the first to pull off the spell, and even Mrs. Prince had been taken aback by its power. Medusa gave him a bleak look before performing her spell with a little less power. The teacher gave them some points and congratulations when the bell rang. While Eddy was packing up his things like his comrades, Mrs. Prince called out to him.
"Mr. Lee, one moment, please."
As an old habit in this classroom, Eddy turned on his heels towards the teacher. If Prince was less intimidating than Riddle, she was still cold and strict. He had never been very close to the witch, and he wondered what she expected of him. The last student left the classroom, and the woman turned to him.
"Mr. Riddle sent me the message that he would like to see you in his office tonight. The password is Pureblood."
She glared at him with her black eyes for a second.
"You can go, Mr. Lee. I have nothing else to tell you."
Also, with an unclear thank you, he complied, thinking ironically that she was still so kind. He had an appointment on the third floor with Rita and wondered what their discussion would consist of. He went to the indication given by the young girl; behind the statue, Rita was waiting for him firmly.
"Come on, hurry up," she snapped, opening the door to let him through. "We need to talk."
Eddy wondered who that one was, then froze when he saw that Salazar was sitting on one of the tables, Charm on his lap. The editorial office of Little Hogwarts Illustrated was a very small classroom, with rickety tables wedged in a corner around an enormous magic press. In the class, Xenophilius Lovegood was chatting with Peeves.
"What on hell is the Obscurial doing here?" asked the poltergeist, who put on a felt hat on his gnome head.
"I didn't come here to be insulted," Eddy growled.
"We'll talk, Peeves. I want your article on the worst tricks to play on an enemy," Rita cooed. "You wanted the Parkinson's job; you got it. We'll print the paper tomorrow night, and you still haven't written anything."
With a comic grimace, the poltergeist looked like he wanted to listen to the blonde who sat smugly on the table next to Salazar. They had not spoken since the Rosier incident. Eddy didn't know what happened after Medusa forced him to leave, but he was fairly certain of the outcome of their confrontation. Sal did not seem to want to say more now.
"Have you read the last copy of the Prophet?" Rita chirped.
Eddy shook his head. No, he had only read headlines for a long time, and if the article accompanying the headline was newsworthy, he would read it next.
"Of course you haven't read it," she gritted. "Do the Ariana Act and the new law of magical restriction mean anything to you either?"
"What is that?" growled the teenager.
Salazar shuddered as he caressed Charm's ears; each sentence Rita said worried him more.
"A law is being voted on by the Wizengamot. It should pass during the summer, according to what my sources told me. This law is proposed to guarantee the safety of wizards. As it is presented, anyone with an "irregularity" of magic can be put under guardianship."
He was deeply in his Obscurial quality, Eddy understood, freezing.
"But I already have tutors," he said. "And what is an irregularity? The term is nebulous!"
"It is precisely because the term is nebulous that it is dangerous," Sal continued. "The possessors of gifts, like Med, my mother, or me, were also concerned."
"The Guardianship Law can change the guardianship of a young undergraduate wizard. If the Ministry deems it unsuitable," Rita continued.
A shiver of fear ran down his spine as he realised all that was involved.
"And what can we do about it? Is there a way to make the Ministry listen to us?"
"We can try to rally public opinion," Rita replied. "It is for the safety of sorcerers that this law will be voted, but if they are not aware of the danger, they must understand it. We're going to vote against the Obscurials first, but they don't even know what it is! If you would agree to answer a few questions so that wizards understand your condition,
"But how does that concern you? You're not doing this out of kindness, Skeeter."
"I'm trying to do something good for once!" yelled the blonde.
Peeves and Xenophilius cringed slightly. Rita bit her lip and pulled herself together a bit. She waited for Lovegood and Peeves to refocus on their articles to whisper:
"After what happened to Medusa, after all that, I want to be useful for once. So yes, I also hope to increase my notoriety by interviewing you, but is doing good things while thinking of yourself as dramatic as it sounds? I know two or three people at the Prophet who would be delighted to hear new testimony. You've been in this school for a year, and we've all seen that what you're going through isn't easy. We need other wizards to understand it before they try to put a dog collar on you, right?"
"I don't know."
"I think you should," Sal whispered. "We must act. This law will put you under the guardianship of the Ministry of Magic."
And there, things could get worse, understood the completely helpless boy. Until now, he thought that the worst thing that could happen to him was to die or end his days in Newt's suitcase; he absolutely did not envisage being imprisoned and disenfranchised. Riddle had been scheming with the Ministry and his meagre freedom was in danger of being shackled.
These thoughts made him dizzy. He had to sit for a moment in a chair summoned by Rita. For a moment, he was completely lost in his dark thoughts as his two comrades waited feverishly.
"It's okay, Skeeter. What should I say?"
"Oh, I've been waiting for that catchphrase all my life, champ'," the blonde chirped, picking up her quill.
When they came out of there an hour later, they hadn't had lunch, but Eddy was feeling fine. Having emptied his bag had relieved his thoughts a little and lessened this cold and diffuse feeling that he had been feeling for several weeks. Sal didn't seem to mind going to the Magical Creature Healing class. Eddy went with him to dry out that stuff by slipping into the astronomy tower while Charm snuck down to their dorm. They hadn't come up here since the incident with the spiders. The tower had been repaired, and the park stretched before their eyes.
"Aragog is dead," Sal whispered, sitting against the railing. The remaining spiders will not attack; they have lost everything that night.
Eddy didn't really share his empathy, but the sight of charred tree trunks stretching before their eyes saddened him. It looked as if a curse had descended on the vegetation, turning it black and dead.
Mr. Riddle's Fiendfyre had licked the grass in multiple places around the park, leaving black swirls drawn on the burnt grass. From the tower, you could tell that a strange black octopus was springing from the depths of the forest to crawl its tentacles towards the castle.
"Have you been back in the forest since?"
"No. The forest is too injured; it hurts me to go back there. The centaurs would hunt me the moment I set foot in them."
"If your father killed Silvana, the centaurs can sue, and there can be a countersuit-
"Centaurs don't follow human laws; they hate us, and rightly so," Salazar retorted. "They will never testify at the Wizengamot. Blood calls for blood. If they have to avenge Silvana, that's how they'll do it."
If the centaurs faced Mr. Riddle, Eddy had little illusion about the outcome of the fights.
"What happened after Medusa…susurred to me?" Eddy finally asked.
"You know the answer," the boy said fatalistically. "Medusa didn't need to be forced; she wanted to do it... I participated in that. I did not want it. I wanted him to understand the pain he had caused. One way or another, I still participate, and after that, I can't take it anymore."
Eddy did not know what to say; he did not know what lie Riddle had given to justify the Rosier son's disappearance. But he knew it would not knock him out of his managerial seat. Medusa had killed someone. Admittedly, he was trash, but Eddy had enough trouble accepting the murder of his horrible parent to know that she had taken a very tortuous path.
"If your guardians give you the opportunity to leave, Eddy, you have to," Sal said. "You have to get out of here."
"I won't leave you here, not with him.
"What can you do against him?"
This discussion he had already had with Salazar in the past, but also with Tina and Newt. But the fact was that he did not want to leave England. He felt it; this country was his, and a part of his history, still in the darkness of his memory, was there. He needed those answers to move forward. To whom or what, he was not really sure anymore.
In the evening, he went to the headmaster's office. He had barely met Riddle lately; because of his new occupations, the professor seemed very busy. Eddy was all the better for it. Since his Obscurus was quiet, Eddy could even pretend to be a normal wizard. No more sparkle, no more explosions. Besides his chronic weakness, everything should have been fine. But the fact that Riddle now had full power in the school worried him. He was entirely at his mercy and ferociously hoped that his Obscurus would be able to fend off the mage's attacks.
"Pureblood," he whispered to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the office.
He knocked on the door, and a dry voice allowed him to enter. He pushed open the door. The headmaster's office had hardly changed since its former occupant was no longer there. The same strange, silvery objects were there; only Fawkes' perch had been removed. Riddle was at his desk, enthroned like a king with a quiet half-smile. When Eddy approached, he noticed that the professor had in his hands the lexicon pages he had sent him. The professor did not offer him a seat and left him standing until he decided to speak.
"You got what you wanted. Are you finally satisfied?"
"Not yet. Many other things will happen, but let's start with you. How is the beast inside you, Mr. Lee?" The professor asked nonchalantly, looking up at him.
"Quiet," he replied with lip service.
"Excellent. Before we continue our session, we are going to make a small update on your lexicons. They are unsatisfactory."
Eddy frowned. He noticed that the old headmasters' boards behind Riddle were all silent, as if fast asleep. None were awake; he had been in Dumbledore's office enough in the past to know that was not a usual thing. It was as if a strange spell had put all the little painted figures in their frames to sleep.
"I give you all the words I have at my disposal in my vocabulary," replied the teenager after hesitating. "I don't know what more to add."
"It's not enough," the professor snarled angrily, throwing away the sheets he had written. "None gave me the answers I expected. Your damn language is incomprehensible."
Eddy thought that you did not learn a language by learning words in a lexicon; a language was more complex than that. He realised that when Tina taught him English. Simply put, Riddle didn't desire to speak that language; he just wanted to understand a prediction. So his view of things was both careless and pragmatic.
Riddle stared at him for a moment with impassive black eyes, then asked:
"What does Latcho Drom mean?"
"It's the right way, or the right road," Eddy remembered with a little nostalgy.
This sentence, he was sure, had reasoned out in his childhood. He would not have been able to say who had pronounced it. But it evoked in him a somewhat nostalgic universe tinged with a certain melancholy. His teacher didn't share this commemoration because those words seemed to reopen a scar in him.
"Did your mother-in-law say those words?" ventured the young man.
Riddle gave him an icy glare, and he felt like he was turning his head around with a single glance. By instinct, he shuddered and had the reflex to lower his eyes.
"She said those words before her prediction, indeed," replied the professor, sending the papers flying towards him. "Her road has stopped; one cannot say that she has taken the right path. Say these words out loud; I want to know their pronunciation. Then say whatever comes to your mind. I don't care; I have to familiarise myself with this pronunciation."
Eddy, frowning, complied, muttering the words he had written himself, then adding others, which he translated for his teacher. He noted that. For a moment, he said a word and saw his teacher wince.
"Repeat this word."
"Lil, it's the book or the letter."
For a moment, he froze, then finished noting.
"I think that will be all for now. Thank you for these illuminating lessons," he scoffed syrupy. "For the rest, let us concern ourselves with your Obscurus. Sit down."
A chair appeared behind him and moved against his calves to force him to bend his legs and sit down.
"We saw your exploits during the attack on Hogwarts. And it's rare that I am, but I'm grateful to you. You protected the blood of Salazar Slytherin. If you keep sticking your nose in my business and destroying, it seems that guided by instinct, you are capable of doing something good."
"It happened twice; the Obscurus totally took over that night. But he didn't want to destroy-"
"He wanted to protect," Riddle answered calmly. "We come back to what I was telling you. Well guided, this force can be useful."
"Using a horcrux?"
"I told you you weren't ready. You are still impatient."
"Since I don't know exactly how much time I have left, yes, I am."
"You're not going to die right away; don't worry. Your Obscurus weakens you more by fighting your cure than by showing itself. It is necessary, however, that we understand where this force comes from. Let's continue with your memories."
Suddenly, the seat on which Eddy was sitting seemed to go through a shiver as black straps emerged from the file to encircle him firmly. Within seconds, he was wrapped up like some kind of leather mummy, and he was struggling furiously. The director's office was invaded by the strange black liquid as Riddle cast his spell to lead them to a dark dimension. He had a smirk that didn't bode well, and that panicked Eddy more as he tried to escape the straps that held him so tightly that it hurt. His heart was pounding, and Riddle approached him with his wand raised.
"What are you going to look for?" exclaimed the panicked teenager. I have had no other memories since. I don't want you digging into anything in my head!"
"But there is nothing you can forbid me now, Mr. Lee. Legilimens."
The spell hit him hard, as he felt paralysed by the red eyes of the man in front of him.
He felt Riddle fiddle with his memory in every way. For a moment, he saw him observing a memory with Tina and Newt, and then a memory invaded his mind. It was just after his dismissal from Ilvermony. Tina and Newt were facing him, terribly disappointed.
"Eddy, how could you do that? You promised us everything would be fine, said Tina, devastated.
No, his memories were recent; he already knew them; he didn't want to see them again. Eddy tried to push his professor's grip back in his head, thinking about the little rubber ducky. But the image melted like snow in the sun, under the power of the wizard.
"We trusted you, big boy," Newt said.
The conversation was lost in hubbub, and there, what Eddy feared happened. His Obscurus shoots out to hit Newt without him being able to stop it. The old man fell to the ground under the power of the creature. Tina tried to intervene by hexing him, but nothing seemed to stop the fire of anger and shame inside him. An even more powerful blow was dealt to the old man, who yelled:
"Help Eddy first!"
He fell into unconsciousness, and the Obscurus, as if appeased, wasted no time in doing the same.
The memory changed.
He was in his trailer with his father and mother. They were still arguing. Eddy was maybe five or six years old. He was in a corner near the bench he used as a bed. He made himself very small to be forgotten. He wanted to go outside, but dad was outside the door, yelling at mom.
For a moment, his father threw himself on his mother to hit her. Eddy was so scared that one of the saucepans jumped out of the tiny cupboard to hit his parent right in the temple. As his mother turned to him, he couldn't or wouldn't see the expression on her face.
A brutal and bestial force ejected his teacher. For a moment, he was facing a wall. Then a faint image stabilised.
There was a dark-haired boy sitting on a small bed. Eddy saw that the boy was Professor Riddle. He must have been only ten or eleven years old; he was thin and pale in a tiny room. Facing him was a younger version of Professor Dumbledore.
"You are a doctor, are you?" Did she tell you I was crazy? I don't need a doctor; I don't need help!"
The little boy jumped up on his skinny legs. Outside, a greyish, dark city stretched out through a tiny sash window.
"I'm not a doctor; I'm a professor," Dumbledore replied quietly. "I came to offer you a place in a school."
"I think you've seen enough," an icy voice hissed in his ear.
He was ejected from the memory and had the impression of receiving a bludger in the chest. Eddy gasped and thought his last hour had come. The professor had his hand oddly spread out over a vacuum. When one of his fingers closed around his palm, Eddy thought a dagger had been thrust into his heart. Riddle's eyes were two rubies of anger as he, for the first time, showed a worried grin. His mental defences had weakened, and Eddy had been able to see a brief moment of his memory.
"Protect, right? Riddle whispered. "It's ironic that you've failed to protect the people you care about so far. They are gone, or will be gone, be sure."
"Let go of me," he said painfully, trying to breathe. I did not want-
"Shut up! Believe me, I'm running out of patience! Crucio."
Eddy received the unforgivable and reared up in pain; his moans seemed to make the man in front of him revel. His Obscurus roared but was stunned inside before he even showed up when Riddle firmed up the pressure on his heart. Eddy gurgled in pain with tears in his eyes.
A wave of Riddle's hand threw him across the room, which had slowly reverted to its original appearance. Like blackish suction cups, the bonds that bound him peeled off his clothes and his skin, leaving him completely empty.
"Impero. You will return to your dormitory immediately. Don't talk to anyone. Get out."
Riddle was furious and confused, and Eddy wanted to be as far away from him as possible. He did not have the nerve to fight this voice; he left the room in a mixture of imposed euphoria and exhaustion.
