Chapter Thirteen: Magic is Might
Ron searched desperately in every alley and shop window, praying that James and Sirius were close by. Nagini's grip on his arm was tight like a vice, he tried summoning his wand away from her, repeating the spell in his head. But nothing seemed to work. Harry walked slightly ahead of the two of them, his right hand was in his pocket ready to draw his wand at a moment's notice. They walked in silence for several minutes, before he spoke.
"You're lucky we found you tonight, Ron, I heard Black had a vanishing cabinet installed with access to your precious mirror. If you cooperate, he may even send you home."
Ron felt a small flicker of hope, Regulus worked for the ministry, he could get him out …
"Interested?" Ron spat, he could keep them talking … he could do this. "D'you hate yourself that much that you'd try to take—"
WHAM
Nagini hit Ron right across the face, Ron blinked away the stars in front of his eyes. Good, he was getting somewhere.
"Quiet," she hissed in warning.
"No, he's alright." Harry turned around, looking Ron up and down. "You're such a hypocrite, Ron. I listened to what you said about your world, its not better than here. You're just better at ignoring it. Do you really think its okay for your ministry to constantly wipe muggles memories, or keep werewolves from getting honest jobs? The Dark Lord takes over, the quiet part becomes loud." There was a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, relishing the way every word hit Ron like a dart, Nagini laughed.
"Didn't I tell you why I was so surprised to see you the day we met?" Harry continued, "I didn't expect to see you in that interrogation room, because I knew Ron Weasley to be unequivocally dead … I suspect that's how you were able to cross through the mirror the first time."
"H-how?" Ron felt his heart leaping in his throat, his mind raced through every single possible way out of this. But he knew Harry wasn't lying, he could see it.
"I saw it happen." Harry said, and in many ways, Ron wished he was as manic as the others. It was easy to excuse a lunatic, but there was a meditated disinterest in the way he spoke.
"Oh, don't worry—it was quick. See, my father decided eleven was a good time to start learning the unforgivable curses. So, when your family came in booked in the auror's office well … records are a shockingly easy thing to wipe clean. But I never forgot you …" They walked in silence, each step felt like hot coals to Ron.
"Bella made me practice on rats for weeks after that." Harry said, seemingly venting more than tormenting Ron at that point. "Stupid filthy things, I couldn't get the curses to stick at first. See, you've really got to mean it. Hatred works fine and all, but did you know apathy is also effective? Do it enough times," in the distance Ron could see the phone booth visitor's entrance to the ministry, "and you go numb to the whole thing."
Nagini shoved Ron into the phone booth, and Harry squeezed in after her. Ron felt more and more panicked, tightly packed in with the two of them like sardines.
"First level," Nagini spoke into the receiver, and the phone booth began to move downwards. Ron had used that same entrance dozens of times to visit his own father at work. He could see the smooth black marble of the ministry's main entrance, he was surprised to see so many people still there in the evening, there was a short queue to a security checkpoint in front of the entrance fountain. Ron's blood ran cold as he looked at it. The beautiful golden faces of the wizard and witch looked up to the vaulted ceiling as they held their wands aloft, surrounding them a centaur, goblin, and house elf looked up in wonder as a golden ribbon unfurled the words:
"MAGIC IS MIGHT"
It was the only thing that they'd changed in the entrance. Nagini shoved Ron out of the phone booth, and past the wizards waiting in the queue for the checkpoint. A bored looking security wizard looked at them as they cut in front of a short woman with mousy blonde hair.
"Identification," he asked. Harry and Nagini took out two small red books, Ron had seen Regulus and Andromeda take something similar before they left the house. But he'd never really looked closely at them until now. The wizard scanned both blood status id cards with his wand, a small screen behind him popped up with the description:
H. Riddle: 15, Pureblood, holly and phoenix tail feather wand.
N. Riddle: 21, Pureblood, yew and dragon heartstring wand.
Ron watched in shock as both of them also handed over their wands for inspection. The security wizard briefly looked at the two of them, he'd grown increasingly pale at the names appearing on his screen. But Ron couldn't believe the blood status. All the Death Eaters talked about was blood purity, did they even know that some people faked their identification? Ron wondered if Nagini was also a half-blood.
"Right," the security wizard coughed, "and 'im?" He jerked his head towards Ron.
"No need," Nagini said quietly, and the wizard opened the check point. She marched Ron beyond the checkpoint, where Crouch was waiting with several aurors.
"Well, I guess the blood traitor is better than nothing," Crouch said. "Diggory and Flint, be gentlemen and take him off Ms. Riddle's hands, he's long overdue for processing." Ron's blood ran cold as two other sets of hands took hold of him. He didn't know what processing meant, and he didn't want to find out.
"And you," Crouch turned to Harry, "are requested upstairs, go."
Ron couldn't read the expression on his face. Harry went in the opposite direction of Ron and Nagini. Ron began to struggle against the two guards, he didn't want to be alone with Nagini.
"Cedric—Cedric please listen to me—" He pleaded, recognizing the second guard almost immediately. The first guard swiftly hit Ron in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Ron allowed himself to be dragged behind Nagini, as she led them over to an alcove with several lifts in it.
"Third floor," Nagini requested to the house elf operating the lift. Ron began to wonder if she could even string more than two words together at a time. But maybe, just maybe, he could work with this …
"Looks like your brother gets more credit than you," Ron wheezed. The witch's deep yellow eyes searched him in disgust. "I get it, my mum always favored my younger sister too."
"No," she said, barely audible above the whirring of the lift. "I do not envy."
"Oh yea—" Ron doubled over again in pain as the second guard hit him again. Nagini stood stoically by the door, smiling at his pain.
The lift doors opened and Ron was forced down another hallway. Above the Door read Department of Magical Law Enforcement, inside was a whir of activity. Ron saw three massive wanted posters again for James, Sirius and Lupin, along with a smaller wall of other members of the Order. Paper airplanes zoomed by with important memos.
Nagini strode purposefully ahead of Ron, leading him into a dark room. Inside was a black and white wall with different heights listed on it, a camera, and a sleek black box roughly the size of a chest of drawers. One of the guards grabbed Ron's right arm, holding his palm out. Without warning, Ron felt a dagger cut his palm. He winced in pain as Nagini took the dagger with his blood over to the black machine. The top to the box slid open, and Nagini let several drops of his blood fall in. Immediately the machine began to dispense a small paper ribbon of text. Nagini held the end of it, apparently reading the information coming off.
While she did that, Ron was taken over to the height wall, he stood on a small X on the floor. For a moment, Ron wondered how many other people had stood in that exact same spot, and if the version of himself from this world had been there too before he died. The camera flashed, dragging him back down into the reality of where he was and the things he was dealing with.
"Wasteful," Nagini said to herself, letting the ribbon of text fall to the floor.
Ron saw her left arm shutter for a moment, she hissed something in parseltongue. Nagini looked back up at Ron, and flicked her wand, the ribbon rolled itself neatly into a coil, which she placed in her pocket. Ron froze as she made her way across the room and slammed him into the wall. He felt her wand dig into the temple of his forehead.
Immediately Ron felt a flood of different memories forced to the forefront of his mind. He saw the end of the third task in the Triwizard Tournament, the ink-soaked diary, the day he met Harry on the train … Nagini removed her wand, and Ron saw three wavy white strands clinging to it. She'd taken copies of several of his memories.
"Room two," she instructed the guards, walking in the opposite direction. Ron suspected she'd been told to report back. It was somewhat of a relief to have her leave. Further down the hall, Ron was taken into an interrogation room and shoved into a chair.
"Wait here," Cedric said forcefully. And Ron heard the door slam shut behind him. A surge of relief washed over Ron, just for a moment. He wasn't going to be killed but … Ron searched around the room, there were no torture weapons, but he knew what he could still be facing. Bellatrix Lestrange was in charge of the department. For about an hour, Ron waited, watching the door carefully.
When it opened, it was not Bellatrix maniacally wheeling in an iron maiden. Instead, it was a short woman with close cropped pinkish hair, Ron tried to hide the smile on his face as Tonks stepped in, and took a seat opposite to Ron. She carried a massive pile of paperwork with her.
"Right, wotcher!" Tonks said, taking out a quick-quotes quill. "December 1st, 1995, subject believed to be a foreign operative, and erm—what's your name, son?"
"Ronald Weasley."
"Ronald Weasley, listed blood traitor and last known to be in the presence of undesirable no. 1 James Potter. Auror Nymphadora Black recording," Tonks cleared her throat. "Sorry, I keep forgetting to leave that off my notes. What are you doing in London, Weasley?"
Ron remained silent, searching Tonk's face for something, anything that told him that she was working with Regulus. He'd never asked … Tonks clicked her tongue and leaned in closer.
"Have you seen any of these men?" She spread out the three wanted posters. "I can understand if you're in shock, the things they've done ..."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Ron said to his lap.
"That so?" She raised an eyebrow, "You don't know about three people you were seen fleeing Hogwarts castle with a week ago?"
"No." It would have been easier if it was just a Death Eater, he hated hearing her voice like this …
"Mhm," Tonks grunted, "you're a loyal person, Ronald. I respect that, but my job remains the same. Pause writing." The quill fell to the table. She took out her wand, pointing it directly at Ron's heart. "I've worked here long enough to know torture doesn't actually work. Orders are orders though …"
"Then don't do it," Ron's mouth was dry. "Please, Tonks." She seemed taken aback by the name, Tonks lowered her wand.
"How'd you—"
The door to the interrogation room burst open, Bellatrix was panting heavily, as if she'd just run a marathon. She looked wildly from Tonks to Ron.
"Oh good," she breathed. "You haven't started yet. The Dark Lord wishes to question the boy himself."
Ron grabbed the quill from the table and lunged at Bellatrix. She caught his arm and twisted it behind his back. Ron dropped the quill in surprise, struggling hopelessly. Tonks made a noise as if she were trying to stop Bellatrix, but decided against it.
Bellatrix said a spell, and Ron felt like he'd been hit with an electric shock, he went limp in Bellatrix's arm. Ron felt two new sets of hands carry him through the hallways, the lights along the wall seemed to twinkle in and out as they passed. He was going to die, he knew that now with more clarity than he'd ever experienced in his life.
Each step they took echoed down the hall like the next note in a funeral dirge. Ron prayed the lift would break, anything to get out of this. The lift opened to a floor he'd never been to in his visits to his father's office. There were several desks neatly arranged to see outside the windows into the ministry's entry lobby below. At the very end of the office floor was a set of double doors, leading into what he presumed to be the Minister for Magic's office.
Ron could feel his senses returning to him, he lifted his head up to get a better look around the office. All the desks were empty, save one near the minister's office. Crouch was pouring over a pamphlet with a red marker. On the outside Ron saw several crying roses as a group of weeds strangled them. Across the top of the pamphlet was the title: Mudbloods: Weeds in a Beautiful Garden.
"Not very subtle, is it?" Crouch waved the pamphlet at Ron when he noticed. "Ah well, we'll get it in the next draft. Flowers, I tell you …"
Bellatrix strode past him, her chest rising and falling with an intense purpose. She knocked dutifully on the office door. Several voices on the inside stopped talking.
"Enter," a quiet but cold voice said.
Bellatrix opened the door, on the far side of the minister's office was a massive window bringing in light from the ministry's lobby below them. On both the right and left walls were stuffed bookcases, a dark marble fireplace was placed in the center of the right wall throwing shadows on the three people seated in the sitting area in front of the minister's mahogany desk. The fire did little to make the room feel warmer, Ron saw Nagini absentmindedly twirling a wand between her fingers, he recognized it immediately as his own. Harry did not look at Ron, the shadow from the fire made him look even more exhausted. Seated in the chair opposite his two children, was the man Ron prayed he'd never have to see again.
"Thank you, Bella, you may go now." Tom Riddle smiled.
Somehow Ron felt even more trapped, even though the aurors had let go of him. They closed the door behind them, sealing Ron in what felt more and more like his tomb. Nagini got up, stalking around so that she was standing behind Ron. Ron got shakily back up to his feet, looking for a weapon, a sword, anything …
"I trust the aurors weren't too hard on you." Riddle said, taking a sip from his gillywater but never once taking his eyes off of Ron. "Bella has her … difficulties … but she knows better than to overstep."
"Can you imagine my surprise," Riddle continued, apparently not waiting for an answer. "When I learned the true extent of your nature? A child born out of a world where I have been ripped from my own body, to live as less than the meanest ghost. That is true terror, to be neither alive nor dead …" Was it a trick of the fireplace? Ron could have sworn for a moment that he saw a flash of red in Riddle's dark eyes.
"This is progress at the very least, I'd almost expected you both to return empty handed again." Riddle said to his children, but never actually looking directly at either of them. "But I think for now I would wish to talk to our guest alone. Harry, you may go back to the house. Nagini, your task is not yet finished, go wait outside. I will find you when I am ready." Ron saw a flicker of relief cross Harry's face. He nodded and strode over to the fireplace, taking a handful of floo powder.
"Riddle House," he muttered and disappeared into the green flames before the fire extinguished itself. Behind him, Ron heard Nagini slam the door shut again. Riddle's face immediately darkened as his two children left the room. Ron felt his heart beating in his throat, it was taking every ounce of will power he had to make eye contact with that man.
"Harry tells me you enjoy chess," Riddle whispered, summoning a polished marble set from one of the cabinets with a flick of his wand. "Would you care for a game?"
Ron did not move, did not speak. He did not want to give Riddle the satisfaction of playing with him before killing him. Riddle laughed, a cold mirthless sound that did not suit him.
"Nagini has no patience for strategy games," he continued, "and Harry grew tired of losing, I must insist." Ron felt a strange compulsion come over him, like his limbs were being moved without his own volition. He sat down in the chair opposite to Riddle.
"Smoke before fire, you may go first." Riddle said. Ron took one of his white pawns and moved it forward two spaces. "I must confess, I did not expect you to survive your skirmish in the Forbidden Forest, but I am glad that it happened."
"If I beat you, do I get to live?" Ron asked quietly. Riddle laughed again, louder this time.
"Ah, but the game is simply a game," he said. Ron tried to follow the logic of the way he moved his pieces, but none of it made sense. As soon as Ron managed to capture a black pawn, another piece swooped in to crush his own piece.
"Then what do you want?"
"I want to know everything, how was I defeated in your world? How did I return back to my body?" Ron had expected this, he saw another one of his pieces get crushed by one of the black bishops.
"You tried to kill the Potters," Ron felt like his head was pounding. "Your curse rebounded on you when you tried to kill Harry, something his mum did. It ripped you out of your body," another piece down, "you're not even human any more, you're an ugly foul thing. You made a potion to get your body back last year, but you couldn't even do that correctly. We all know you're back, and my best mate is going to kick your ass."
Ron captured one of the knights, satisfied at least to see less pieces on the board. Riddle smiled cruelly, positioning his rook so that Ron's king could not escape. Ron moved his queen to capture the rook, but it was overtaken by Riddle's bishop again.
"So, it was her choice," Riddle muttered under his breath. "That's good, good to know." He moved his queen into position, and watched as it decapitated Ron's king. Riddle's smile twisted further as the game ended. "I chose correctly."
"Nearly sixteen years ago, Lily Evans came to me with a proposition." Riddle said, and Ron felt his stomach churn. "She would trade with me, a myriad of secrets to help ensure Dumbledore's fall, and in exchange I would spare the lives of her fiancé and unborn son. Her treachery was discovered a short while later, although I doubt Dumbledore ever told anyone what she'd done. I managed to get to her shortly before he did, taking with me her secrets and child. But it was far too late, I had what I needed, Dumbledore forfeit her life."
"Why?" Ron was almost certain that Riddle wouldn't have said any of this if he didn't think Ron would be able to repeat it. He needed to keep him talking.
Ron saw Nagini left his wand back on Riddle's desk. Sitting there as well was a familiar leatherbound diary. Ron felt his heart leap, surely it had to be another piece of his soul. If Ron was going to do anything, he needed to do it now …
"Why do we do anything?" Riddle asked quietly. "If all of our life can be reduced to the singular red strand of fate … I suppose I was curious, and looking for a way to circumvent the possibility of my own destruction—"
"You're lying," Ron said, surprised by his own boldness. "If that were true, then what about the scar? You marked him when you tried to kill him, he wouldn't have it here." Riddle blinked, leering at Ron with impossibly straight white teeth.
"Killing curses don't leave scars." Riddle said, laughing coldly. His wand was level with Ron's own face now, relishing the terror and confusion. He opened his mouth to utter the curse, until—
Right down below, Ron heard the fountain statue explode with the force of a bomb.
