Chapter 17: Something In the Dark
Thanks for all the reviews.
I went back and edited a few chapters to match this one. Harry purchased a sawed-off shotgun and three guns, and Tom only cowed Fudge, not outed him. No need to reread.
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Tom, Harry and Hermione met at the warehouse. They were going to be shooting that day. Tom had already cast the muffling spell on the warehouse so nobody would hear them as they were shooting. Harry still had the four guns he had purchased from Skip. He would take the shotgun while he gave two of the other guns to his friends. That left a backup gun to himself. He was gonna use that shotgun to blow Voldy's head off. Well, that's if they gave Tom the pardon he asked for.
Tom and Harry were in one part of the warehouse, while Hermione decided she was going to shoot elsewhere. She wanted to practice on her own, since she was a better shot than the other two. She could have given them some pointers, but they didn't want her to. They thought they could suss it out on their own. She huffed and went to the other side of the building.
"Tom, how goes that pardon?" Harry asked, firing off the shotgun into a very good likeness of what they thought Voldy would look like. It was tall, slim, snake like and had no nose. The shot took off the left side of the dummy's head. It was a good shot.
"I've talked to Fudge, and he said he's going to give it to me. He's working on it right now," said Tom, aiming and firing off a shot to the shoulder. He missed and hit the head. "Damn it," he said, knowing that he was going to have to get better. He fired again and missed again. This time hitting the arm and causing the dummy to twirl around and hit a pillar, knocking it down.
"I thought you had him cowed?" Harry said, smirking at Tom's fatal shots. The man just couldn't help but kill. It was just second nature to him. It was like bad luck when it came to killing just followed the man around. "Try aiming for the legs," he suggested.
"Oh I do, but he's got to answer to people too, you know?" the mini Dark Lord said, lining up again and firing. This time he got the right ear, which caused the head to lean to the side.
"Like whom?" Harry asked incredulously. He thought the man was the final say. He blew out the dummy's kneecap then loaded up and shot the target's head off. He was going for the kill shots and having a great time doing it.
"The Wizengamot," was the answer. One more shot to the shoulder, this time hitting it, but the target flew sideways and hit its head on a piece of machinery and was 'killed'. "Merlin, damn it," he muttered.
"Wait a minute, I thought the Wizengamot answered to Dumbledore. Or vice versa," the very confused teen asked, trying to understand the workings of the magical government. He pumped the shotgun and fired at his target and blew a hole through the stomach. That was a kill shot.
"They all seem to answer to one another. It's a checks and balance thing," Tom said, scrunching his brow up and going over what he said. It didn't matter, he controlled both groups. He had Fudge cowed, and most of the Wizengamot. He'd get his pardon before night fell, or someone was going to die.
"You told me Fudge could get you a pardon," Harry said, getting angry. He targeted the next dummy and blew its head off. Pumped the shotgun and did it for the next one too.
"And he can," persisted the older teen.
"Then what's the hold up?" the frustrated boy asked, still blowing up anything that took his fancy. Even some of the broken machinery.
"He just has to do it in an underhanded manner," Tom said, trying to be patient. Harry did have a weapon in his hand and seemed to be quite efficient at using it. He didn't want the other teen to get trigger happy.
"Is he holding out for more money?" Harry asked, being a bit more insightful. He knew Fudge was a corrupt politician before Tom got ahold of him. Now that Riddle held his reins, he wasn't making all that money in bribes, perhaps he wanted some back.
"Yes," came the bitter comeback.
"Just threaten to cap the motherfucker," Harry said, blowing up another conjured dummy. He grinned maliciously. He really liked blowing the crap out of shite.
"Don't you think I tried that?" Tom asked, now using his gun with great abandon. He was blowing holes into everything he could see, even while trying to make them maiming shots. He needed the practice. He wasn't having much success.
"Obviously you didn't try hard enough. Try using the Cruciatus curse on him," Harry said, like that was the most obvious solution.
"Now there's the thought. Why didn't I think of that?" said Tom sarcastically. He fired at a large piece of machinery trying to hit it on the side, but got it dead center. He really needed to work on his aim.
"You mean you did, and it didn't work?" Harry asked with a great deal of shock. He would have thought the little coward would have given up right then and there. Weaklings like Fudge usually folded like cards at the slightest bit of pain.
"Of course I did. The man is just greedy. He wants his gold more than he cares about pain," Tom explained. He'd never seen the like, but Fudge held out for more money. Once that was on the table, it was worth the pain in the other man's eyes.
"You must not have held it long enough," Harry said, looking at Tom queerly. Was he going soft? He stopped firing off his shotgun and stood there thinking.
"I don't want the man a sniveling mess. I'll need him for a bit longer," he said, waving the accusation away.
"Well, I'll be buggered," Harry said, laughing a bit at Riddle going soft. Not that it was a bad thing, but he needed him to take out the minions to Old Voldemort. If he went soft now…
"Anyway, I should have my pardon by tomorrow," Tom said, firing off one more shot, since they had stopped firing off to continue their conversation.
"Let me know so we can get started on taking down the Dark Lord," Harry said, taking apart his shotgun and putting it on a table they had set up to clean the weapons. If they were going to shoot, they were going to clean too. He had a book open on the table that had instructions on how to clean and maintain a weapon. There was a magical one there as well. First, they'd do it the muggle way, then the magical. That way it'll be completely covered.
"I am the Dark Lord," Tom said, smirking a bit, taking one more shot, this time hitting what he was aiming at.
"The other Dark Lord," Harry said, with a laugh. He liked Tom, and really hoped they would maintain their relationship after the whole Voldemort thing was over.
"Do you even know where he is?" the other teen asked, going over to the table and disassembling his gun. He wanted to do it the magical way only but was curious about the muggle way too. The magical way didn't require you to take apart the weapon. You just cast the spell. He wanted to see how the gun worked.
"No, not really, but there has been some activity at the graveyard the last couple of days," Harry said, putting some cloth to the barrel of the shotgun and rubbing.
"How do you know this?" Tom said, doing the same to his gun.
"We've got people watching there, remember?" Harry said, going through the motions of cleaning.
"My Death Eaters have not seen anything," was the confused reply. He hadn't heard anything. There had been the 'all clear' for days now. If his minions were slacking, there would be hell to pay.
"I think they know to look out for your men," Harry said with a smirk. He had been telling Tom forever that his men were anything but inconspicuous.
"How do yours differ?" was the genuine question.
"Your men stand around looking all stiff and obvious. Sure, they hide behind trees and spells, but mine hide up in the trees and stuff," Harry answered with a wave of his hand as if to indicate they had trees above them.
"I see," said Tom. He did understand that his servants wouldn't demean themselves by climbing trees. He could see where that would be a problem. There were such things as Notice-Me-Not spells and other disguising spells, but if you move then you risk being seen. Everyone fidgeted now and then. It would be easier to hide in the trees than use the spells. Invisibility cloaks would be easier, but they were too rare to be viable.
"At any rate, there's been some movement in the graveyard, and I have a feeling that our time is coming to a close," Harry said a bit ominously. There had been someone sneaking around. Like they were casing the place out. Seeing if there were people around. "You might not want your minions around for a while, they might be spooking Old Tom."
"So, you think older Tom is going to make his move soon?" the younger Tom asked, anticipation in his tone. He was more than willing to get this over with. He would pull his men back. Let Harry take over the watching since his people were better at it.
"Yes."
"Do you know what it's going to be?" Tom asked, putting his gun down and getting the oil that was needed to lubricate it now that it was clean.
"No, but it does involve a rather large cauldron," Harry said, furrowing his brow.
"How do you know this?" Tom asked, looking at Harry with a shocked look.
"You know that old Manor up there by the graveyard? Your father's?" Harry inquired, making a waving motion like the manor was just up the road.
"Yes."
"There is a humongous cauldron there that wasn't there a couple of days ago," he explained. They had seen it there yesterday and reported it to him. They were keeping an eye on that place and the old shack. In case Old Tom was hanging around. They weren't there all the time, just making passing glances every few days or so.
"I see," said Tom thoughtfully. He'd have to check that manor out later. It was his, by birthright. If older Tom was camping out there, he was trespassing. At least in his eyes.
"Yeah. So, I have a feeling older Tom is going to be using that sometime very soon," Harry said, thinking that it wasn't something that was going to go well for him.
"Well, I will endeavor to be prepared for it. It sounds like a resurrection spell," Tom said, going over all the things that would require a cauldron and a graveyard. Especially that graveyard.
"Is it something I should be worried about?" Harry asked, knowing the answer, but wanting the nitty-gritty. He was done cleaning his shotgun and was now oiling it down. It took longer, because it was larger than Tom's Ruger.
"Only if he knows that you're alive. Because it does call for the blood of the enemy. So that's either you or me," Tom said. He put his gun together and cast the cleaning spell on it. It was now very clean and oiled. He put it away.
"I don't know if he would consider you an enemy or family," Harry joked and put the oily rag down the barrel of his shotgun.
"I am his adversary. I know he is my opponent," Tom stated as fact. He didn't want to think of the older Riddle in the familial sense.
"So, watch out for kidnapping attacks. Got it," Harry said, putting the rag down and starting to assemble his weapon.
"Or you could just play along with it, and we can catch him that way," Tom suggested, thinking that would be much better. They could lay a trap that way. He could think of many ways that would work to their advantage.
"There is a thought. I'll let my group know. You let your group know. Do you think we should let Dumbledore know?" Harry asked, putting the shotgun away and giving Tom some bullets for the Ruger.
"It would only be polite. That, and he might get in our way if we let him blunder about," Tom said with a sigh. He could just see it now, them fighting and winning, then in come the Order of the Pheonix to mess it all up. Dumbledore in the lead, calling them Dark Lords that needed to be locked up for the sake of all. They would have the pardons, but they would need to fight to get out of the graveyard just to get away from the man anyway.
"Very well. I'll let him know in a few days. But, only if you have your pardon tomorrow. Until then, I'll just be extra careful not to get kidnapped," Harry said, shaking his whole body, like he had just run a marathon.
"That sounds like a just plan," Riddle said, looking around at the chaos they had wrecked in the room. "I will try not to as well," he stated. He waved his wand and fixed some of what they had broken. They would need it repaired for tomorrow's target practice.
"Are you two done planning now?" asked Hermione, coming from where she had done her own practice. She had heard the last bits of their conversation and thought about what they were saying. She agreed with most of it.
"Yes, I'm surprised you didn't comment much sooner," Harry said, looking at her with suspicion. She usually threw in her two cents' worth much sooner than this.
"You seem to have it well in hand. I didn't see that you needed my help. Besides, I was over there," she said, waving to the targets on the other side of the factory. They were all in shreds, like she had used a machine gun. She must have spent all her bullets on the targets.
"Do you have anything to add?" Tom asked, valuing her input.
"I didn't hear much, just the last few minutes. However, if you can, mess up the potion he's going to use in the cauldron. If there's one thing that screws up a ritual faster than anything, it's a potion mishap," she said, going to the table to clean her gun. She didn't need instructions. Her dad taught her how when he took her Skeet Shooting. She did read the magical spell though. That was new to her.
"That's a brilliant idea, Hermione," said Harry, his eyes lighting up at the thought. He never thought of that, but it did make sense. Even one wrong stir could mess up a potion and make it all moot.
"Yes, that is quite intelligent," said Tom as he watched her efficient and deft hands. They were quick and precise.
"I will have you know I am the smartest witch of my age," she said with a sniff.
"And I would have you know I was the smartest wizard of mine," he said, sticking his nose in the air.
"If you two are done comparing dick size," Harry said, laughing at both of them. They may be smart, but he was powerful.
"Harry, I don't have one of those," Hermione said, aghast.
"Believe me, I've noticed you are all girl," he said with a leer.
"Oh really? When did you notice that?" she asked, oiling her gun with slow deliberate movements.
"The other day," Harry said, winking at her. He didn't really mean anything by it. It was just being playful. This was Hermione. She was safe.
"Oh, dear Merlin, you two are going to start flirting, aren't you?" Tom asked, groaning with his hand pinching his nose.
"We might," Harry said unrepentantly.
"There's nothing wrong with healthy flirting," Hermione said primly. She knew Harry was safe to flirt with. She had her eyes on someone else anyway.
"Just shoot me now," Tom said, turning and walking away.
"You're in a room full of armed people, Tom. That's not a smart thing to say," Harry said with a laugh.
"Point."
"Anyway, we should break it up now. We've done our shooting and we've all got our aim down pretty pat. Well, except Tom. But he'll get there. Let's say we get back together tomorrow," Harry said, now that Hermione was done with her cleaning. Suggestive though it was. How could someone make cleaning a gun look sexy?
"Yes, I must go back and talk to my minions about being more inconspicuous," Tom said, getting an angry glint in his eyes. "I'll take them off the roster for the graveyard until they get it correct."
"That's probably a good idea. Try not to hurt them too much. We're going to need them for the fight," Harry said, going towards the entrance to the factory.
"I am a Dark Lord, not an idiot," the mini Dark Lord stated, he too going to the opening. It had been a fruitful day.
"Right, you are, my friend," Hermione said, clapping Tom on the back. They had come that far in their friendship.
"Goodbye, Tom," Harry said, when they got to the front where they would Disapparate. Well Tom would, he and Hermione would take the Knight Bus. They needed to get back to the school. It was Saturday and they would come back tomorrow. The weekdays were full of training the groups on how to fight. Well, not the Order anymore, since Dumbles was being a fool.
"Yes, I will see you on the morrow," Tom said, and disappeared.
"Do you really think it will be over soon?" Hermione asked as she held out her wand.
"Yes," Harry said, thinking of that cauldron.
"I truly hope so."
"Me too, Hermione, me too."
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In a manor in Little Hangleton, there was a 'man' that was contemplating what to do next. He was thinking about who to use for his ritual. There were two possibilities. One was a boy who many thought of as a hero, but was just an unruly teen. The other was a phenomenon. He should not exist, yet he did.
When he created his Horcruxes, he did not know they could take on lives of their own. That never entered his mind. Yet here one was, ruling magical Britian in his stead. It was unconscionable. He was going to have to do something about that.
"Wormtail," he called from where he was seated. He was in the form of a toddler, a mere shadow of his former self. He hated it.
It was Peter Pettigrew that found him in the forest of Albania. The sniveling man had come to him when Black had escaped from Azkaban. The innocent man had been Kissed, but by the time Wormtail had found this out, it was too late, he had already committed into bringing Voldemort back to life.
"Yes, master," the rat like man said, coming to him, wringing his hands in a worried fashion. He was a fool and a coward, but he had his uses.
"Prepare for the ritual. We will need to do it on the Summer Solstice. I need you to make sure you have everything we need. Which means you need to have plans in place to capture both Harry Potter and my younger self," the Dark Lord stated. He decided he would bring both of them there. It would kill two birds with one stone.
"But, master, the Dark Lord…" Peter said, fretting something fierce. He was too scared of the other man.
"You will do as I say," Voldemort stated, casting the Cruciatus curse on the coward. He lifted it after a moment. He didn't want the man to bolt, he just wanted him to be compliant.
"Yes, master," Pettigrew stated as he got off the floor, knowing that no matter which Dark Lord he went to, he would get the same treatment. This one was supposed to be the more powerful one, so he followed him. He figured he was picking the winning side.
"I will be thinking of ways to win this war. You do what I tasked you with, or you will be Nagini's lunch," the Dark Lord threatened. He then waved a dismissive hand.
Peter moved to leave, hating his life.