AN: Happy zaturday. Hope everyone's week was well. I want to thank you all for reading. Special thanks' to Naruhina1519, very happy your enjoying the story! Anthro79 for the lovely review, Who knows what will happen, cause I sure don't. And vega0987. I have to say, I completely agree with you. The lack of magic is amature. And the reason for that is, I have no clue as to how it works! Meaning do fanfics authors make up their own spells? Or is there a list? guide? rules? Considering this is only year 2. Im not sure how far I should go or how experienced the character should be because I don't want to make it seem that he's too OP or too weak. Any advice would be great. ANYWAYS Thanks again for reading. Follow/Fav/Review
Small steps... Small steps, he kept telling himself.
Making it to the chamber. There, in the center of the room was a large statue of a man, Mortimer assumed it was of Salazar Slytherin. As mesmerizing as structure appeared, it was not compared to the tall figure who stood by it.
Tom hissed at the stone figure, using parseltongue. "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."
Mortimer freezes, feeling like he was part of the audience, views the frightening sight of Tom's commanding fury.
Harry was afraid, taking many steps back, he could only watch in shock as the mouth of the statue expands in a matter of seconds. Shaking when the giant creature uncoils itself from the stone's opening, it reveals itself as a horrifying serpent.
What everyone has been speculating for a long time. A basilisk.
Grass-covered green, the massive beast lets out a loud hissing, near growl, roar. Large yellow eyes, capable of freezing anyone to death, literally. Its sharp, dangerous, venomous fangs that could tear off the hardest of surfaces, would eat anyone whole.
It brought pride to the person who could control such fine creature.
In a single word, that very person commanded, "Kill him."
Riddle pointing at Harry, smiles at the power he posses.
Its heavy body coming straight for him, Tom laughed at Harry's foolish attempt. As if running was going to save him now. Laughing harder when Potter tripped, tumbling down on to the wet ground. Tom smirked at how terrified the great chosen one was.
Better that no one can save him, not even the great Dumbledore.
"Stop!"
Suddenly, everything stops moving, including the basilisk.
Their eyes move to find a lone figure standing in the middle of great big chamber, the source of command.
Reacting out of instinct, Mortimer wasn't sure what to do next. He's presence caught their attention, but what now?
"Mortimer?" The last person he suspected, Harry uttered, questioning. "Yo-You can speak Parseltongue?"
Mortimer looked at him apologetic. "It's not what you think. . ."
"What is this?" Snarled Tom. "Who are you?"
Mortimer let out an involuntary laugh Who was he indeed. Even he couldn't fully answer. Did Riddle not know he was now facing the product of his own doing? His own son, here in the flesh, to be unrecognized by his father.
"I-I'm. . ." Mortimer started but couldn't finish. It was a moment that should be celebrated. A reunion that should be met with joy. But for some reason, it felt the opposite. This man – boy – wasn't his father, not his real one.
Noticing the silver-tied, green wearing uniform Mortimer was wearing, there was a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I see we share the same house." Tom, walking towards him. "Help me finish Salazar's great work, to rid of these pathetic muggleborns."
"Don't listen to him Mortimer!" Getting up from the floor, Harry quickly said. "He isn't real, he's a memory! You have to help – Ginny, she's in dying."
"Ginny? Ginny is here?" Startled, his question was answered by Potter's feverishly nods.
Clenching his hands tightly, Tom yells. "Forget the stupid little girl, help me – Quick!"
Turning to face his 'father', Mortimer felt trapped, unsure on what to do.
Mortimer could help Tom. Help him get rid of Potter and restore Tom to his originality. It's what he would've wanted. Possibly make his father incredibly happy. He'd be praised, proud to have a son like him, maybe even loved.
But then he looked at Harry, and then to Ginny, she was so frail. White as a sheet, he could see she was barely breathing. Some part of him said who cares. It's what she deserves. The Weasley girl has been nothing but mean to him all year, trying to cause strain between him and the ravenclaw. Believing every lie that was told about him. Why? Out of his stupid name, for simply being a Black, Ginny thought he didn't deserve any friends.
These choices, what was he to do?
Let the serpent attack Harry? Free his father and continue on this dark path? Go against everything he's said about muggleborns and blood?
"Mortimer!" His attention grabbed by Harry. Daring, the boy takes one step closer. "Hermione thinks – No wait," Shaking his head before proceeding. " knows, you aren't like Malfoy or any of the other purebloods. Even when I didn't believe her – Don't prove her wrong."
Expression turning soft, the feeling of guilt returned. Briefly, he remained silent as he loses himself in his thought. Which was quickly swept away by Tom's words.
"Foolish boy, the fact that you haven't moved tells me you're nothing but weak!" Tom shouted angrily before turning back to the basilisk. "Kill him!" He ordered again.
Only this time, the giant serpent didn't move. It stayed in its position. "Stupid creature, Why aren't you moving? – I order you to kill him!"
When the basilisk refused, Mortimer watched Tom as his face paled.
"Impossible!" Taken aback, Tom's eyes widened at the revelation. "I am the Heir! You should be listening to me. Unless. . ." Dangerously, his dark eyes move towards Mortimer.
The air suddenly becomes tight.
"Hi. . . Dad." Mortimer's voice was bleak, no hint of the happiness he thought he might feel, nothing but resentment against the boy would go on to do terrible things.
"Dad!?" Hearing Potter yell out reverberated throughout the chamber, struggling to understand.
"No." Shaking his head in denial, Tom refuses to believe. "It can't be. I-I would never –"
An abrupt laughter, Mortimer covered his mouth. "What's wrong? You never thought of having children? I wish you hadn't." Mortimer gritted, his hands gripping tightly, his knuckles had turned white. "Would've saved everybody the trouble."
The enraged Riddle narrowed sharply at the boy's mocking tone. He accuses. " Lies! You're no one. You're an imposter trying live by another wizard's name. You related to Slytherin? BAH! A true slytherin wouldn't hesitate to attack. You? Pathetic. Weak!"
Mortimer's pain was almost notable, the cause coming from the young man before him. A troubled soul, blamed and hated by the world that failed him. Society will not easily forgive. He sought comfort but was denied, he laughs at it now, never forgetting. A cruel person like Tom, wearing the mask of charm and innocence, his silver-tongue could talk anyone into doing his bidding.
He wouldn't buy into it. A hatred growing inside him the more Tom spoke to him, trying to break him into tiny pieces. Tom was all but an empty shell. Realizing Riddle – Or his father – would not be so loving - There was a loss of hope…
Looking at Potter, he could see the confusion, the bewilderment in his eyes, doing his best to find some sort of sense. But then, there was also a hint of concern. Worried that now he has to protect himself from the likes of Riddle and new challenger, Mortimer.
The basilisk hasn't moved since he commanded. There, it waited patiently for its next instructions.
A heavy sigh, Mortimer has head heard enough.
"I may be a lot of things. Impatient, temperamental, cheeky, a damper, too serious to enjoy anything, and dare I say… a git. But I'm not weak." Point at Tom, he continues. "You're the weak one! Weak for letting hatred control you, failing to fight the corruption, letting it rot your soul! Why? Because you're nothing but a reject, hated. . . Just like me…"
Faltering, his voice got quiet. "But unlike you, I didn't let it influence me. One of my friends is an actual muggleborn, talented and bright… And a half-blood, nice, caring and nurturing. Does that make them unworthy? It doesn't. I'm doing this for them because it's the right thing to do."
In one movement, Mortimer's eyes brushed to meet the basilisk. The serpent, in position, stood high and mighty. Now meeting Tom's unwavering gaze, there wasn't an ounce of regret.
Tom raised a derisive eyebrow, in a final word, he simply said. "Weak."
Pity…
"Kill him."
The basilisk let out a roaring hiss before rapidly slithering away from Potter, charging at Tom.
Harry couldn't bare to watch. Shutting his eyes, he looks away, hearing the only sounds of Tom's cries, followed by crunching, gurgling noises.
Once the room went silent, Harry dared to open his eyes to face Mortimer. He had all but watched as the basilisk ate and chewed what was left of Riddle's strength.
Hollowed eyes that conveyed no sort of emotion, there was only distance behind those dark orbs.
"H-How...?" Afraid to make a sound. "Why?"
Despondent, Mortimer asks. "Is she ok?"
"Ginny!" Suddenly remembering, Harry rushes over to find her still laying there.
He leans down to feel her skin, panicking. "She's still cold."
Just as Mortimer was about to respond, a sing-song noise out from a distance fills their ears with hope. Out of nowhere a phoenix emerges from the chamber, flying with grace and beauty, twirling to show it's fiery flaming feathers. Its beak, holding a dark leathery book, makes its way towards the two boys, to then dropping it between them.
"The diary! We have to destroy the diary." Harry instructed, rising to his feet, he grabs the journal, handing it to the heir in hopes that Mortimer would know what to do.
And he did. Mortimer eyed the diary, turning over a few pages before shutting it closed. Aware of the kind of power his father might posses, he looks over to the basilisk, unmoving but still dangerous. "Creature!" He calls out, holding the diary up high. "Destroy it."
A noise escaping the giant serpent, it storms towards Mortimer, snapping the book from his hands. The diary flew high above the ceiling before basilisk sharply took it between its choppers. Sinking its fang deep inside the cursed diary, shaking it violently. Ripping off several pages, the serpent spits it out, making land in front of Mortimer's feet. Shocked, he watches as the dairy starts bleeding out the darkest ink ever imagined, spewing all over the floor as it died.
And that was the end of it.
Sharing a look, both Mortimer and Harry focused at the now destroyed dairy.
The evil was gone.
For now, at least. . .
Raising his head, Mortimer couldn't very well see the serpent's tawny deadly eyes. Recalling that no being can see them, for even the slightest of glances, they would be instantly frozen.
Without looking at the basilisk, Mortimer directed it with a firm voice. "Close the eyes."
Aghast when it listened, Harry was unsure whether to trust it or not. "Relax Potter, it's safe."
Harry was about to reply when he's interrupted.
A moan rings behind them.
Turning over to find Ginny sitting up, she was holding her head. Color returning to her skin, it took her a minute to become fully aware.
Remembering what she's done, Ginny frantically looks around the area.
While Potter, rushes over to her. Black decides to keep his distance. It was a private moment for the two and he highly doubted Ginny would feel comfortable seeing another slytherin.
He instead focuses on the basilisk, the very creature that served his ancestor. He had to admit, she was a beauty when she wasn't busy petrifying children. She? Mortimer wasn't sure where it came from, only that it felt right.
Aside from appreciating the sight, there was a delimma that needed attentiom. With Tom finally gone, the faith of the basilisk was now on his hands. Uncertain of what to do, he walks closer to it and places a hand on its rough, hard scaled skin.
Ginny begins to cry when she spots Harry, immediately apologizing. "Oh Harry! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do any of it. I tried telling you an-and Ron this morning b-but I got scared when –" Letting out a horrible gasp, she quickly points behind him. "Harry – Behind you! The basilisk, Mortimer! They're –"
Harry, waving his hands, tried to calm to her. "It's alright Ginny. Everything's fine. I'll explain everything – After we get Ron."
It takes Ginny several minutes to fully compose herself. When she finally manages Harry helps her from the hard stoned floor.
Strange, the phoenix was waiting by the chamber's entrance. Providing itself as a solution, the two children make their way towards the flaming bird.
Taking in the last few moments, Mortimer turns when he hears his name being called.
"Aren't you coming, Mortimer?" Harry asks, eyeing the basilisk wearily while Ginny eyed him suspiciously.
Needing the time to decide the serpents fate, Mortimer shakes his head, telling him, "I'll catch up with you guys later." Returning his sights on the oversize snake.
Still frightened, both Harry and Ginny quickly run towards the phoenix. Mortimer's back was turned, but he could hear them leaving.
Alone with the basilisk, the last thing connecting him to Salazar Slytherin, there was doubt when weighing his options.
"What will you do, Master?" Hearing Tobey as he peeped out from his robe.
"I don't know. . ." Honestly speaking, he asks. "What do you think I should do?"
Sticking his tongue out, Tobey doesn't hesitate when he says. "Kill it."
"What?" Mortimer exclaimed, not sure if he was serious.
Tobey's reasoning. "It's dangerous."
"So is everything in this school." He retorted. "Anyways… I can control it – Tell it what to do. Maybe it won't hurt anyone if I tell it not to."
"It is a risk…master…"
Frowning, Mortimer hated to admit. Tobey was right, letting it roam the school, there was no guarantee it would not harm a student, if left alone. But a creature, such as this, couldn't be killed for simply existing, it deserved to live just like every living thing.
The basilisk, laid down, waiting for its new master. Its eyes closed shut, the beast could still sense Mortimer's presence.
It was a hard choice, one he hated to do.
"Creature…" Once again, calling it to attention, there was moment of hesitation. "You will return to your nest."
The basilisk let out an annoying huffing noise, one that showed its displeasure. Another pat, one filled with sympathy and heartache, he calmly whispered. "I know girl…" Petting its gigantic sharp scales. "I know. . ."
Obediently, the basilisk moves back inside Slytherin's carved stone mouth. Mortimer watches in sadness as the knots close in, shutting in the great beast that served his family through generations.
The final clicking noises lets Mortimer know that chamber was officially closed. The sad part about it all, he isn't allowed enjoy it. With the chamber opened, he uncovered secrets, one's he didn't know but came to light. Now that it was over, he'd have to go back and face the music.
Having not forgotten that he had just exposed himself in front of Potter. The school will now know how far deep his roots really went.
Leaning his head back against the wall. Mortimer waited patiently in front of Dumbledore's office.
After putting the basilisk back to sleep, he made his way towards the girls restroom. The only problem with that is he had no way to get back up. After searching for a couple of minutes, however, Mortimer was able to find an old built ladder, one that he used to climb back up.
Dusking off any debris, he was surprised to find the phoenix waiting for him. A note on his beak, Dumbledore wanted to speak to him about the chamber.
It was the reason why he was standing here.
Aware that Dumbledore was speaking to both Potter and Weasley, Mortimer merely bid his time. Taking deep breaths as he continued to ponder about Tom – His father's young self.
Even at this age, his father was anything but warm. Then again, what did he expect? Hearing stories from those who knew him and those he's encountered, they've all but agreed that the man was beyond human. A man with fierce power, you can easily sense it, eyes deadly that it can still a room into silence.
Yes, he was no different than when he was younger. The only difference was back then, he pretended to be this perfect student. One that was bright and friendly, popular among the school, for teachers adored him for his intellectual mind, students who wished to be like him while others wanted to be near him.
He couldn't stand it.
Even in suppose death, his father found ways to ruin everyone else's lives.
Hearing footsteps descending from the top of the stairs, he doesn't move. The gargoyle guarding the stairs opens to reveal Ginny, and a woman Mortimer assumed was her mother.
Noticing Mortimer, Ginny takes a step back, offering no words, aside from a nervous look. Hands on her shoulder's her mother speaks softly. "C'mon Ginny, let's have the nurse take a good look at you." Gently guiding her way.
Once they disappear, it was not long after, Ron had also came down. Yet, he wasn't alone. Along with a pixelated Gilderoy Lockhart.
"Are we going to the fair now?" Lockhart says, giggling as his head wanders the corridors.
"Yes Lockhart. The fair's this way…" Leading Lockhart from the gargoyle's corridor. Before they could leave entirely, Weasley gives Mortimer this strange look when he told him. "Dumbledore said to come up."
Fading away from his vision, Mortimer composes himself as he climbed the stairs.
Reaching the last step, he was introduced by the sight of Dumbledore, taking a chair near the fire, and unsurprisingly, Harry, he too had taken shelter.
"Ah~ Welcome my dear boy." His head peering from behind the chair. "Won't you join us by the fire? I was just having a very important discussion with young Harry here."
Reluctant at first, Mortimer let out a sigh, indulging the old man who sat in the middle.
"I would first like to thank both of you. You Harry for showing fierce loyalty, had that not have been the case, Fawkes here wouldn't have heed your call. And you Mortimer, for putting an end to the basilisk, I imagine it was not an easy choice, seeing as how you are fond of your own – should I say? Pet?"
Raising a questionable brow, Harry didn't understand his meaning. "Pet? What pet?"
On cue, Tobey peers out from underneath Mortimer's robe, just below his neck. "Tobey… his name's Tobey." His hands folded together, his eyes staring straight at Dumbledore's twinkling ones. "It's not her fault."
Dumbledore, giving him a light smile. "I know my dear boy."
"Her?" Harry inserted. "How do you know it's a she?"
"I just do." Lowering his eyes. "Call if intuition."
A small laugh escapes the headmaster. "I will trust your judgement – Speaking of which, I see the two of you have met Tom Riddle." Pondering for a bit, he says. "He was most interested in you Harry, am I correct?"
A brief pause, Harry nods. "He said we're alike. But that's not true! It can't be. I-I mean, I'm in gryffindor…" He got quiet. "The sorting hat, it-it wanted to put in slytherin... said I'd do well and I can speak pareseltongue. . ."
Dumbledore turned his head over to Mortimer. "Yes Harry, you can speak parseltongue. But so can Mortimer, as he is now the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin. But does this fact make him any different?"
Mortimer made no move to talk, only watching as the fire turned the logs into ash. Hearing the headmaster say, "To further explain Harry - On that very night, Voldemort must have transferred some of his powers to you. It is why you hold that very scar. Though, I can assure you, it was not intended."
Nauseated, Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "A piece of him… is stuck inside me? Then-Then that means I should be in slytherin!"
Unable to bite his tongue, Mortimer gave Harry a scornful look. "And what's wrong with being in slytherin, huh? Are you really so ignorant that you'd listen to everyone that tells you we're bad? How about instead you do your own digging and find out for yourself."
Straightening himself, Harry accuses Mortimer. "Your ancestors hated muggleborns! You heard it yourself, Slytherin wanted to purge the world from all those he thought were unworthy."
"And because he did, that suddenly means I have interest in doing the same? Get real Potter. That was a long time ago, and Tom was too blind to see the reality." Mortimer retorts.
"He's the reason my parents are gone. . ."
Folding his arms, Mortimer sat back, avoiding the spectacled boy. "And he's the reason I'll never know what having parents is like, so we both lose."
"Alright boys." Dumbledore claps his hands. "No need to get rowdy. Mortimer, I understand your reason. You being in slytherin doesn't defy who you truly are inside. If that were true, Miss Weasley wouldn't be here today. As for you Harry, despite what Riddle said, it is our choices that show who we really are, far more than our abilities."
Rising from his chair Dumbledore strolls towards the desk, retrieving the sorting hat, he hands it to Harry, telling him in the process. "Reach inside."
To Harry, the old out-worn ragged hat felt empty. Sitting there, inspecting, there didn't seem to be anything inside until his hand reaches in. A soft gasp, he feels a rather large and heavy piece of handle. Dramatically, he slowly starts to reveal a silver sword, with bright shinning rubies, a name stood out, Godric Gryffindor.
"The sword would never reveal itself, for only a true Gryffindor would be capable of pulling it out the hat." The headmaster softly stated.
Neither of the boys spoke.
Dumbledore returns to the empty desk to take out a piece of parchment, along with a quill and ink.
Mortimer's gaze went to the sharp.weapon, studying it as it the fire's light bounced from the sword. A true gryffindor… Dumbeldore said. Harry was right where he belonged. As for Mortimer, well, he wasn't too entirely sure at the moment.
Riddle's words echoing in his ears, calling him a failure and a disgrace to the slytherin house, the name. Mortimer had to remind himself that it wasn't true. Like the sorting hat said, he could bring new meaning to the name, build it back to its glorious state. Show everyone what it means to be a true slytherin... Forget Tom, as Potter stated, he was merely a memory from his past life. Dark and evil magic that he uses to avoid dealing with death. He was nothing but a coward.
"So-So Voldemort. . . He's really you-your father?" He carefully asked. Seeing the heir's nod, his curiosity only grew. "An-And Bellatrix Black, she's your mother?" Another nod, his emerald eyes widened.
"You see why no one can know?" His stare never leaves Harry. "They want me dead for being a Black. What do you think they'll do when I they find out I'm his?"
For a while Harry didn't say anything, gazing at the fire as it danced in the fireplace. "Have you ever met – " Harry started to say, but couldn't find the words to it.
"No, I've never met them." Speaking quietly. "I didn't even know they existed until I got my letter."
"Then, Hermione was right – You weren't raised by the Malfoy's, you were raised by actual people."
The more they talked, the more Harry couldn't stop the questions that were pouring from his mouth. "Does Malfoy know about you?"
A short breath. "Yes, he was there when I myself discovered I could communicate with them. . . It was not pretty."
"If Malfoy knows, then so do his parents, right?"
"Yes." He answers plainly, watching as Tobey slid out from his robes, exposing his long striped body.
Harry, quick to react, suddenly grew angry. "Malfoy knew all along! An-And he just stood there pretending as if he didn't know anything."
"Before you go and blame him, know that I told him – forced him – to not tell a single soul." He eyed Tobey who was exploring the cozy chair his master was sitting on.
"Even if you did, he'd still find some way to spill." He accused, not believing a word.
"Not about this." Shaking his head. "I would've killed him first before he could say a word. . ."
Hearing the seriousness in his voice, Harry wasn't sure how to take it. "You-You don't mean that…" He said in a hush tone.
The room quiet, Mortimer said no more – or simply didn't want to. Tobey, slithering back to his master's shoulder, he tries getting his attention. "Master."
"Later."
Dumbledore, approaching Mortimer, hands him a note. "I think it would be best if you joined your friends at the feast."
"Yeah…" Taking the note from his wrinkled hand. "I think that would be best."
Getting up, Mortimer ignores the weary look from Potter and Dumbledore's concerned expression.
Despite the small piece of parchment in his hand, Mortimer had no intentions of going to the feast. It was likely that he'd be interrogated on the spot. And dealing with insatiable curious children, he'll never get any rest. Then there was Draco. Mortimer wasn't sure how to deal with him at the moment.
Going to what everyone's been saying, patience and time is what Draco needed. For how long? It could take years for all he knew and even then, it'd be too late.
Mortimer will worry about it later. Right now, he's going off to bed.
"Master."
"What is it Tobey?"
A small pause before asking. "Will I be replaced?"
A question he was not expecting, he stops walking to answer. "Excuse me?"
"You've found the great big beast. She will protect you now, far more than I will ever be able to." Tobey suggests. "If it pleases you Master, I will allow you to remove my head and render me useless."
"Don't be stupid." Beginning to walk again, turning the corner. "You picked me. I accepted you. We're stuck together now. So deal with it."
"But she can –"
"I don't care what she can do. As long as you're alive, you will continue to serve me. Understand?"
Hesitating shortly, Tobey tightens his body around Mortimer, appearing to be a touch of sentiment. "Yes, master."
Unbeknown to the dark snake, Mortimer was rather touched at the little worm's comminment. Silent to the small fact that Tobey would rather die before ever betraying him. A reptile, having Mortimer's full trust, he won't doubt him again. Tobey's loyalty was unquestionable.
Scowling at his own sappy emotion, he silently shakes it off. Shoving the note Dubledore had given him into his pocket, he continues on until he reaches the stairs to the dungeons.
Great... Who knew snakes could be so dramatic.
The rest of the year went through like a breeze.
Not long after closing the chamber, Professor Sprout was able to turn the children, and Mrs. Norris, back to normal. When the students realize the chamber was officially closed and the students were no longer petrified, Potter was instantly crowded. Praises and apologies, he was seen as the hero who put an end to the school's terror.
Mortimer, not far behind, was of course, ignored. And he was fine with that. No one needed to know he essentially betrayed the slytherin house by putting back the basilisk back into its nest. The other children in the slytherin house were confused as to who or why the chamber was closed. Others were disappointed that the so call purge will no longer take place.
But Draco knew the truth. He knew it well. Sulky and gloom, he was quiet for the first time. It became worse once he found out that his father had been kicked as school governor.
Mortimer couldn't help but feel bad for Draco any time he walks by him.
In recent days, he's become sort of a loner. But it was a habit he enjoys. Mortimer was in the courtyard, sitting on one of the stone benches. He wasn't doing anything special besides watching the clouds.
It was seemingly dark, the sun covered as the cool wind blew the hair on his head back. Mortimer took this as a sign that there were still things to come. The year maybe over but the end has yet neared. Dumbledore is expecting Voldemort to return, when? Undecided. But the with the exposure of his diary, surely that means he isn't far off.
Scratching his head, he hated thinking about it. What he will do when the time comes. The day he will have to face his father, the real one. Not a copy, memory, or anything remotely magical, just him in the flesh.
Small clapping footsteps loomed from behind.
He thought it was just Luna trying to brighten him up, there was a heavy sigh when he spoke. "I told you Luna, I'm fine. I don't need to keep wearing spectrespects anymore – it's starts giving me a headache." He says without turning around.
A giggle escapes, one that didn't belong to the ravenclaw.
Snapping his head to turn, he finds Ginny Weasley standing before him. She looked happy, healthier. Wearing her school robes, she became quiet when he offered no words.
Biting her lower lips, she spoke. "Harry told me what you did – back in the chamber… How you saved him from being eaten by the basilisk. Th-That you stopped T-Tom Riddle…" She was embarrassed, ashamed. "I'm sorry. Sorry, for thinking you were this awful person; like Malfoy. I-I shouldn't have listened to Ron. I should've made up my own instead of believing what everyone else was saying."
Again, Mortimer said nothing in return. Staring at the shocking confession. Truthfully, he didn't think Potter would ever mention it to Ginny, going through a difficult ordeal, he'd likely keep it vague.
"Don't worry about it." His expression had closed up and his eyes had emptied.
Through no fault of hers, she had nothing to apologize. He was shaking his head. "I'm sure he wanted to protect you from getting picked on."
Taking a step close, she continued. "It doesn't excuse my behavior. I was mean to you an-and I was mean to Luna when you've been nothing but kind… I'm sorry."
Ginny's face was calm for a moment until her eyes and brows were twitching, trying to hide the tears, but failing to do so.
A strange territory he had no experience in, he was taken aback when Ginny had crushed his body with her own. Hugging him, she continually apologized. But again, was hesitant to move.
Padding her back awkwardly, he said. "I told you, don't worry about it – It's alright, j-just stop crying, will you? They're going to think I'm picking on a first-year."
If anything, this only made her cry even more.
"How wonderful!" Peeping from the back of them was Luna. "We're all friends again." Hopping endlessly, she ran up to them, joining in the repressive, body crushing gesture.
"Ugh – " Rolling his eyes, he thought back.
Maybe I should stop being so friendly...