Marvolo POV
I sat in the musty chair, feeling myself an utter fool for wasting my money. The dark skinned Ugandan guard stood ominously in the corner of the room, his arms folded against his muscled chest. The thick musk of incense and animal parts clung heavily to the inside of the chamber, stinging my nose and burning my eyes.
"Surely you're mocking me."
"One hundred galleons for my prophecy… as discussed." The Ancient witch croaked, extending her hand over the table for the box I held at my side. Her dreaded locks were bleached white with age, tumbling down like ropes on all sides of her face. What skin I could spy beneath the curtain of hair was leathery, covered in a mottling of spots, scars and warts. Her ears were pierced with bone jewelry from which dangled silvery feathers.
"That could not have been correct." I replied, beginning to lose my temper.
"I am no ordinary seer boy… you got a real reading… not the usual sham theatrics I put on for children and dullards… it took me MONTHS to prepare the ingredients and potions for your prophecy. Tea readings, rune castings, countless tarot screenings, charted and catalogued arithmantically. I consulted the golden knuckle bones of the opaline dragons. I brewed draught of divinea, and even used blood magic that has been illegal since BEFORE Minister Fudges administration. I had to sacrifice two shrunken heads for this… You received what you bargained for… fontling. Now PAY."
"Tell me again. Repeat it once more."
The muscled guard rolled his eyes from behind his mistresses ash wood chair, as though he'd seen this exchange many times before. The albino boa constrictor on his shoulders flicked its tongue in and out, tasting the air as its red orbs flashed knowingly at me. A red raven cawed from its cage, shuffling its wings behind the bars made of gnome femurs.
"Master of Hate, son of the Snake
born of a dark star, as black as tar
His fate,
to rise as lord of the sixth gate
Only to learn service as agent to his greatest foe,
Lo! A vassal to the one true king of magic,
Whose life is doomed to a fate most tragic.
Upon a winged demon this lord vassal shall ride
through plots and battle astride,
the one with the emerald eyes."
She had recited the words from memory, closing her lids as she spoke them. Again the purple flame of the candle flickered and sparked as the syllables distorted the silence.
"What the fuck does that mean? Witch. Interpret… now… or the only payment you'll receive is a blade to the neck."
She withdrew her hand and began to drum those crinkled fingers against the ebony patterns of the divination table. Her guard detached himself from the entryway of the room so that he could wrench away the small coffer of gold that rested in my lap.
"You're Voldemorts son, clearly. Son of the Snake? A Black star. Bellatrix Lestrange, born Bellatrix Black. Old friend of mine actually, your mother. The sixth gate? A fontling of Hate. Clearly we know the Slytherins are lords of the font of Hate… There are a few winged demons of legend I can think of, and dragons are never referred to as demons so I have a fair idea what monstrous creature is to be your mount and familiar… The rest is pretty self explanatory don't you think?"
"I will serve the one true king of magic? What rubbish is that? My allegiance will be to a king, but even he knows his rule will be a sham. My master is no true king… and besides, he has blue eyes… not green."
"Then you will come to serve another… in time… your greatest foe… or so you thought."
"How could you be right about my parents… I never shared that secret with anyone… so how can you know THAT and be wrong about the rest?"
She burst out laughing, a hideous cackle that sounded like shrieking. I almost punched her in the face for straining my ears… but her guardian had made me relinquish my wand before entering the back room.
"I am no hedge witch brewing silly love potions for moonstruck girls… I am a seer… I too descend from fontlings… my line was long ago spawned from the Muramasa clan in the east… My auguries fly truer than what even the ministry's dogs foretell. I am not wrong. You can escape your fate no more than you can escape the truth of your parentage. If you even cared to try."
"And you expect me to believe you knew my mother?"
"I did. Very well. I would have fought with her and her… Lord… your father… had I been able to at the time."
"The one I will serve… the one with the emerald eyes… he is indeed my… my enemy… but there is no way I come into the service of that boy Prince. I refuse to believe it. Sentimental fool, as unstable as he is emotional. A disaster waiting to explode. My master expects him to cause the British great distress in the coming years. He is to be my faction's footstone for ascension."
"Believe what you wish. My services were to tell your fortune, not convince you of its accuracy. The emerald eyed boy will be King, your king included."
"Is there nothing else you can tell me? Friend of my mother?" I asked, needing for the first time in a long time, something from another person. I hated the desperation that forced me to tinge my words with a plea for succor.
She seized my hand and placed a pair of bone rim spectacles on her nose, peering down at the lines of my palm through the thick glass and tangle of matted fibers.
"HA! Love will cause the shift you so fear in yourself and to your destiny. Hmmm yes... It will be for a highborn girl that your allegiance to your current path will change. That your life's course will be altered."
That was all I needed to realize i'd been utterly scammed. I don't love. I never learned it's meaning. I did not feel it, nor did I even recognize it. Love was a thing that repelled me. DISGUSTED ME.
"A waste of money as sure as anything. I've been had by a master con." I spat, pulling my hand back violently. I rose from my chair in a rage, my blood pounding like a hammer through my veins. Anger and hatred began to boil in my flesh. My fontling magic pulled at me to sear the seer and her entire hovel, but I refrained.
A voice stalled my ire. From the shoulders of the guard the white serpent hissed, its words clearer to my ears than anything the witch had said.
"You would do well to head the woman's sssssssight. I have never known her to be wrong. Not once in three decadesssss. Heeeeeed her wordssssssss young masssssster. For to ignore them…. would be follllllly."
"And what would you know? You're nothing but the pet to alley psychics. I wash my hands of this farce."
The creature laughed alongside its aging master as i stormed from the room back to the front desk. I was able to retrieve my wand from the clerk even as the armored door shut behind me. I had half a mind to turn around and blast my way through, to use my hatred to destroy the three lives in the tiny shop, but something stayed my hand. A curious whisper in my head.
If my destiny is not to serve the Valois? Then what is it? Vassal to Albus Potter? It was impossible. I wanted to kill the boy from the moment I saw him. He was the only person who had ever caused a flicker of fear to penetrate the shield of my mind. An inexplicable fear that reminded me of the history books I had grown up reading about my father. There had only ever been one wizard father feared, at least if the records were correct. He shares that sainted name too.
I turned out of Venom way towards the Shadow Court, stalling as flyers with the Potter boy's face had been plastered on the stone walls.
"/EXTRA EXTRA, READ ALL ABOUT IT!/"
/Albus Potter is the ASP! Prince Rhoyne moonlights as hit performer/
it read, revealing that the newly minted Prince had been secretly performing for a year as the masked magical artist who'd taken our world by storm.
Valois intelligence had informed me the boy had come into possession of a large sum of his Rhoynar fortune even as Augustin had tried to slow the process through his connections. It was true that Albus had formed an investment group and was purchasing property and funding charity programs in direct opposition to some of our aims. But of this revelation our spies had no prior knowledge.
"He must be using his fame and notoriety to build up his public profile."
Years of his family trying to keep him a secret were unravelling.
I wandered through the streets of Knockturn Alley, aimlessly walking in the direction of the enormous department store made of dark marble. My feet carried me absently along the paved stones, leaving my mind to scheme in absentia. I often felt my thoughts were sticky tangle of spiderwebs. Threads weaved this way and that in a mess of interwoven plots and deceptions.
'What's even more curious is how Albus's closest friends have rallied around him. So many influential students from Hogwarts are joining his academic clubs and even the junior defense program.'
"Oh, hello Marvollo. What are you doing in this part of the Shadow Court?" A sweet voice called out, rousing me from my scheming purgatory. I recognized the voice as belonging to my employer's youngest son, the princeling Cyril.
"Merely finishing some errands for the family, my Prince. Zephyr."
"Mr. Lestrange" The ebony skinned witch doctor offered, the two words a cold and formal greeting. The tall figure at the blond's side never failed to impress me. His every muscle and nerve seemed to hum with a strained power, ready to release at a moments notice. I examined his sleek head, glimmering with sweat as the clean shaven scalp caught the torchlight of the subterranean hallway. My gaze moved from his head to his eyes, those impressive gold orbs reflecting catlike as they scrutinized me.
"Always so enigmatic. I guess you're not allowed to say?" Cyril guessed, sighing at being perpetually left out of the loop by his family.
I did not correct his assumption, nor did I elaborate on the nature of my personal errand.
"How about you Cyril? What brings you down to sub level six?"
He fixed his hair and sighed again, putting his hand out so that his servant could hand him the violin case.
"My luthier has a workshop down here. I needed to make an adjustment, and didn't trust my household staff to explain the issue correctly without me."
"The Valois Luthier works here?"
"Don't sound so surprised. He's very good, he just has a sentimental attachment to his family's old shop. They've been at this location for five generations."
"I see. Well, I won't keep you from your appointment then."
"Tanith already made the adjustments. I'm actually on my way back."
"Oh… well then… get back safely." I replied stiltedly, trying to sidestep him. I hated pretending to be polite, but my Valois employers had to be treated with the utmost respect. My advancement depended on it.
"What's the rush Marvollo? I was going to have a bite at Eclipse for some lunch. Join me" He offered, slipping his arm through mine.
"I wouldn't want to impose highness."
"Nonsense. I was stood up when my date found out where I was going. They weren't exactly keen on appearing in the Shadow Court."
That was interesting. Who among the Valois's circle would turn down an invitation by one of Augustin's children? Let alone over such a trivial issue as appearing in the Shadow Court. Could it be that older Potter boy from school?
The prince pulled me along towards the elevators that had since been installed in the building, pressing the top floor where the restaurant Eclipse was situated. The bell dinged and our doors opened onto an impressive sight. The grand establishment ringed the terraced atrium balconies so that it's diners had a view into the botanical scene below. Light flooded through a green tinted dome that served as a massive skylight, bathing the area in a refined aura. Waiters in fine black suits waltzed elegantly to and fro, balancing floating platers gently above their palms.
In recent days the shadow court had become something of a very expensive mall, with boutiques, showrooms and ateliers nestled away on each floor. A large atrium of magical plants sat in the center of the court, rising the ten or so stories from its lobby. The basement served still as opera hall but the upper echelon and roof housed a master house of culinary art, catering to the richest and oldest families in Europe. A similar establishment called Lunaris had been built by the same restaurant group atop the Isle Avalon.
"I've never eaten here before." I noted absently, relieved that Cyril had let go of my arm before we'd gotten off the elevator. Still we received a flamingo of glances as nosy diners turned to examine the new arrivals all at once. Their heads had swiveled nosily at the distant sound of the lifts ding.
"Don't worry it's my treat. You needn't—"
"—See you back at school Cyr." A beautiful blond woman interrupted, grazing the boys arm as she and a middle eastern wizard slipped a hand into the closing doors to stall the machinery's descent. The ravishing figure looked to be about nineteen or twenty… though it was hard to tell in her stunning red dress and magical makeup. Perhaps she was younger and just finishing up her last year at Hogwarts?
"If the Duchess Fawley would refrain from touching his highness… I have asked you this twice already." The deep voice of Zephyr chastised before his charge could reply.
"Alexa means me no harm Zephyr. You know that. Where are you off to dressed like that?"
"I'm running Cyr, I'm already late. I have this charity dinner the Croy Sisters are hosting in the evening and I wasn't going to have time to change in-between errands. Enjoy your meal boys." The woman shot hurriedly as she departed. It was not lost on me that the entire host of Eclipse's patrons turned to watch the beauty walk away. Perhaps it had always been her that had captured their attention.
"Ok catch up later then Lex. I'll see you back for the spring term."
I too stared at the ravishing girl as she entered the lift, surprised when she turned back around to chance a glance at me. Pain twisted in my chest and the memory of the serpent's hissing laughter echoed in my mind.
'A girl?' I thought repulsed. 'That Seer thinks i'll be tanking my entire career path for some silly woman?' I spat in my head. The thought was so ludicrous that I almost burst out laughing. 'Even if it were a girl as beautiful as her, I doubt i'll ever make that mistake.'
"Something funny Marvollo?" Cyr inquired as Zephyr spoke to the hostess for us. The manager came over and practically pushed the lady aside, crossing off a name on her list and motioning for the two of us to follow him into the restaurant.
"Nothing highness, i'm just not very hungry."
"That's a shame. Well, again i'll remind you that i'm treating if you change your mind."
There was something so disturbingly feminine about the way he moved. The way his head looked cocketishly over his shoulder to thank Zephyr just as the man had pushed in the boys seat. The way he playfully opened his menu and smiled at me over its pages.
There were rumors that Cyril was gay… but this seemed different somehow. That strange feeling gnawed at me throughout our first round of wine and bread, like an itch that couldn't be scratched. We chit chatted over trivialities until we ordered, but all the while my curiosity would not abate. I pondered the feeling for over a half an hour, turning the problem over in my cobwebbed mind.
It hit one of those sticky threads sometime midway through our appetizers… sending a pang of realization through my entire hive of darkness. The realization of what the Valois had been hiding all of this time. The myriad clues had come together like a perfect mosaic, and for the first time since I began my service to the royal family did I truly feel powerful in my own right. The revelation cast even more doubt on the validity of the prophecy i'd just heard.
'War… this secret could start a war.' I realized.
How had they managed it? Why had Augustin desired THIS scheme, of all the schemes he could have orchestrated?
"You're Acelin and Appoline's half brother right? I heard somewhere amidst all the palace gossip that your mother was not Charlotte of Anjou. Or am I wrong?"
I offered, interrupting the boys pleasant chatter with more serious talk. He nearly dropped his fork in mid bite but somehow managed to retain his composure. That lasted only until he took a sip of his virgin mimosa. He swallowed wrong and began coughing.
Zephyr spat me a disapproving glare from his standing position.
"Yes… that's right. It's no great secret but I hardly hear anyone mention it anymore… What's brought that on?"
"I was wondering if you remembered much about her? Your mother I mean. She dropped you off in Paris at what? The age of six?"
"Seven… actually." He replied slowly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he'd become the subject of my impromptu interrogation. "This is sort of… irregular Marvollo."
"Is that so? I thought we were friends? Why would you invite your servant for lunch? Your classmate maybe, but not your fathers agent surely. Can't you share a little family history with a friend?"
My honeyed words almost swayed him but alas there was little chance he would admit it.
He hesitated for a long while, moving food back and forth on his plate. He looked confused by my words. When he failed to answer I continued…
"Do you know I wonder? NO, surely you can't be in on the ruse. You wouldn't voluntarily stay under Agustin's thumb if you knew what horrific injustice had been done to you" I corrected, laughing despite myself. It was all too funny really.
The Prince and his guard shared a mortified look but I no longer cared. I pulled my napkin off of my lap and wiped my mouth disdainfully before tossing the spent fabric into my bowl of half eaten soup.
"Where do you think you're going? We're in the middle of lunch? And what did you mean by all that?"
"I don't suppose you know anything about chess either you little shit?" I asked rudely, my venom no longer concealed. The African looked as though he wanted to stick a knife into my neck but thankfully for the sake of decorum he remained standing where he was. "For instance, what happens when you get a pawn all the way to the other end of the board? Why, when that happens, he promotes. The pawn can become any piece he chooses, even a second queen. Funny how one piece of information has just made me as powerful as your father. One little secret, and I'm the one who's figured it out. I could topple your entire family if I wanted. Pity i've sworn certain oaths already to the Valois that prevent me from just that" I finished, getting up from the table.
Every patron in the restaurant stared at me as I howled with laughter.
"Sit down Mr. Lestrange, you're making a spectacle of yourself."
"It's Riddle, Zephyr. My name is Thomas Marvolo Riddle Junior" I corrected, whispering so that only Cyril and his guard could hear. I had grabbed the boys delicate hand, digging my nails into his flesh for effect. "Tell daddy, Prince Slytherin wants a raise, unless he wants his beloved hostage to find out what this pretty little necklace is really for." I threatened, pulling my wand out and using the tip to lift the golden pendant from under Cyril's shirt. The enormous emerald glistened as it came into contact with my magical conduit, emitting a soft tingling glow.
"What did I do? I just thought… to get to know you… that we might be friends… why are you being so cruel? And what did you mean by all of that?" He pleaded, tears forming in his eyes. For a moment I almost felt bad for the kid.
"Tell your father exactly what I said. He'll summon me to Paris before too long to renegotiate my contract. I have no doubt of that. And tell him i'm arranging for several lawyers to release the information if he tries to assassinate me first… that ought to keep him in check."