Blood On My Name

by sadlybeans

Voldemort, the Dark Lord, was defeated as the prophecy tells, by a teenage boy who had nothing but love and friendship at his side, his reign of terror over in a single night. After darkness enveloped him, Tom Riddle woke up in his eleven year old body, with the knowledge of the future and his past mistakes… Now the question is, will that knowledge help him avoid his destiny?

14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 Notes:

CW for slight mention of character death (Myrtle) in canon, various mentions of abuse, and implications of domestic abuse. As always, nothing is particularly graphic.

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Marzan was deeply exhausted to his bones by the time they made it to Hogwarts, too much to even bother being a nuisance to his professors, and so he went to his bedroom in Slytherin and took a nap for essentially the entire day. As much as that last meeting had worked to ease his anxieties, dealing with his biological paternal family had been an added stress he certainly didn't need… His life was actually quite calm and nice nowadays, he would very much like it if chaos would just stop happening. He already had enough with his name being put on the papers thanks to the entire ordeal with the Triwizard Tournament and his newfound popularity due to being a 'miracle child', the only known obscurus to have survived. It was hell, he hated it, he just wanted to be a normal bookworm— reluctantly, he mentally sent an apology to the Potter brat for trying to kill him so many times, he now knew his life was already awful by virtue of being so well known. If Voldemort had just sat back and done nothing, Potter would've given up on his own, surely.

Anyway. It was still mid afternoon when he woke up, and after a light snack he decided to simply lay on his bed to read, since he had taken the vacation time to also raid the fortress' library. Esmeralda had pointed him to a collection of Aztec magic rituals that was utterly fascinating. Most wizards in Europe -the vast majority really- firmly and foolishly believed magic had been carried to the New World with the colonists and conquistadores, much like they also thought the oldest records of magic came from their lands as well… Obviously that was stupid. By the time witches in Europe were emerging, cultivators in what's currently China had already figured out how to transport instantly from one end of the continent to the other and African wizards were already expert in the earliest potions and alchemy formulas. Before any european country even had a magic government or structure, every single ethnic group in the Americas had already figured out how to coexist peacefully with the non-magic without a need of hiding.

He was so absorbed in his reading that he nearly didn't hear his friends entering their bedroom, sprawled as he was on his bed.

"Hello Marzan, it's so good to see you as well, thank you for asking about our trip and vacations" Orion said mockingly after a solid minute of nothing.

"Mmhm" he mumbled distractedly.

"We went to stay with our definitely real muggle cousin, definitely considering leaving the magic world behind for a simpler life"

"That's nice…"

Alphard chuckled quietly and went to put his luggage on his bed, while Orion rolled his eyes and also gave up after that. Tiernan didn't even bother to make any signs of life knowing it was a lost cause— Abraxas' steady steps made it towards his bed to stand near him in silence and Marzan didn't acknowledge him at first either, he knew that the blond knew he had noticed his presence. Still, he could feel the weight of those green eyes on him.

"Your hair is growing" he informed him.

"Ah, I think I might grow it out for a while, as an experiment" he said distractedly, tugging on a hair strand to extend it. By now it was slightly over his eyes, seeing as he hadn't cut it in months, but since he normally brushed it away from his face it didn't look all that long.

"Get dressed. Dinner is in twenty minutes"

Marzan rolled his eyes. There went his reading time.

"Yes, sir" he replied sarcastically, but still went and put his book down to grab his uniform. Not because Abraxas had said it, of course, he just needed to look presentable.

He was buttoning up his waistcoat when Alphard finished packing and took up residence on his bed, sitting up facing Abraxas since he was standing between their beds and the blond was facing the same way, leaning against one of his bedposts and spoiling Rai, who he had scooped up in his arms at some point without him even realising.

"By this point he's already stolen your snake, it might as well be his" he commented lightly, and tugged on Marzan's waistcoat to smooth out some folds. "How was your family holiday?"

"That might be his evil plan but I refuse to let him win" he answered automatically, even if the little traitor of a viper preferred to be in the blond's arms. He would blame it on his elven blood or whatever. "Ah— well it was… something"

Alphard tilted his head in curiosity.

"How so?"

Marzan paused to put on his robe, fussing with the buttons.

"I did get to meet my uncles and aunt. Yes, those uncles and aunts"

"Are they like the stories say?" Orion sat on top of Marzan's trunk, just behind Alphard.

"Uh… maybe? Ruthven and Lestat are annoying at best" he rolled his eyes and started to look around for his gloves. Abraxas silently pointed him to his shelf. "Collins is mostly just quiet, same as Esmeralda. I like Eli though, he's pretty lonely normally so he did not mind spending time playing chess and the like. They were the uneventful part"

"But something did happen" Alphard insisted.

How to put it? Marzan adjusted his gloves and scrunched up his nose.

"Lucille did visit because uh… Hmm, there's no way to sugarcoat it; I got to meet my father and grandparents" Tiernan started to cough violently as he choked from the shock and Alphard gaped, and to be honest their reactions were a little funny. "So there's that. I don't really know what they're going to do, but Lucille said they definitely can't ask me to live with them, I'm almost an adult anyway. And you know, my father's kind of… afraid of magic"

"But… you are alright, then?" Alphard was as always the most compassionate, reaching to hold his hand.

"Yeah, of course"

And it wasn't even a lie, not anymore. Meeting them on his own terms had significantly calmed him down, even if he couldn't really predict what they'd do next. Honestly he had been tempted to show them HanQiang, but he decided it would've been too cruel even for him, who knows if they would have an aneurysm or something.

"You'll tell us if they do anything" Abraxas' first comment on the situation was more of an order, but that was along the lines of what he expected.

"I will" he rolled his eyes again. "It's probably gonna be fine, I don't even live in England for them to bother me often"

"No word from your uncle?" Orion asked.

"He was arrested again but I doubt I'll be notified for his trial"

Abraxas frowned but remained silent as they all got up and marched out of their Common Room to get to the Great Hall.

"You might want to contest him for the title of Lord Gaunt" he finally spoke when they were walking towards their table, waving at some classmates as they went by. "Since you're no longer his ward it would be a smart choice, considering he could attempt to disown you. I doubt you care about the politics but that would grant you a seat in the Wizengamot and prevent him from further tainting the Gaunt name"

Marzan paused as they sat down, pensative.

"You think that would work?"

"You have a stable household now, your grandfather is a Prince and your father has great renown for his mastery of potions, not to mention he's a well respected professor. And your other father has just published one of the best sold astronomy books of this century— adding to that the fact Morfin has a track record in Azkaban and abuse allegations, you are already on the winning side. Granted, they might be doubtful because of your age, but it would be extremely convenient if the empty seats of the Wizengamot are filled in once again"

Their friends stared at Abraxas in shock, evidently taken aback that he was already so aware and well versed in politics and boring Ministry stuff. Marzan wasn't truly surprised, he knew the Malfoy heir was brilliant.

"I'll turn seventeen next winter, I think you're right"

Abraxas frowned.

"You're sixteen?"

"What!?" Orion and Tiernan leaned forwards across the table too.

"I'm a year older, yeah" he shrugged.

"And why are we hearing that only now!?" Tiernan kicked him under the table. "When even is your birthday?"

"I don't like talking about my birthday" he replied immediately, trying to force a smile, but it was evidently tense.

A small silence extended over their group and Alphard just reach to pat his hand lightly, but nobody pressed on the issue.

The food was laid out soon after, but he didn't touch it. His eyes were fixed on his cup, full of a dark red liquid, elderberry— Dark liquids were the easiest to use when one tries to hide a poison, at least a magical one, since they tended to be of dark colours too. Problem was the taste, it wasn't easy to hide the taste of poison even in the most bitter of foods or drinks… but there are some that are obscure and unknown to most, some that have been refined to be nigh undetected, some that even the most paranoid of wizards will not be able to find if they don't know what they're looking for. The poison wasn't really meant for Abraxas, obviously. And Tom Riddle, foolish Tom Riddle, still hadn't learnt to keep his guard up, not when he was in his only friend's manor where he was a guest of honour, not when he was unusually relaxed and comfortable enough to even laugh in between conversation. All it takes is a wizard skilled enough to submit a house elf to an imperius curse, and a few drops of one the world's most deadly and most rare poisons in a bottle of fine wine made to toast and celebrate.

So. Tom had been tipsy enough to speak freely, sprawled on a couch without his robe or tie, and Abraxas was looking at him with amusement and a small smile tugging at his lips, elegantly slouching on his armchair. He had said something about appreciating Abraxas and everything the Lord Malfoy had done for him since they were in school, and Abraxas had looked at him much in the same way he always had that he never quite knew how to interpret, and… he had drank it. Tom did, because it was meant for him. And Abraxas, who despite keeping his power to himself and never even acknowledging his obvious heritage, had made use of his elven magic just that one time, for him. And there are just things nobody, not even a high elf or a fae, can survive… not when one is offering themselves in sacrifice.

Tom Riddle had withered and died that night. Voldemort never truly trusted anyone again, never let himself be vulnerable even to his most loyal and devoted followers.

A hand covered the top of his cup and he blinked, turning to look at the blond. Abraxas was still just fifteen, the last bits of childhood clinging to his features and still not as tall as to surpass him. He still hadn't grown old enough to be unable to hide his pointed ears without a glamour, or to marry and have a child he had never loved.

"You have to eat something"

He took away the cup and replaced it with a new goblet, one filled with water, and Marzan let out a small breath.

"Alright"

Later that night, he was still wide awake while everyone slept peacefully. His eyes were fixed on the book on his lap but he could not get past the same exact sentence, the letters on the page seeming like an alien language that swirled and moved around to evade him. It was just a memory, just a terrible memory… and still, his brain refused to let it go.

Someone pried the book out of his hands and set it closed on the bed. That same pair of firm hands made him stand and walk the short five steps to the next bed over, and he couldn't find it in him to protest as he was made to lay down. Abraxas' bed was firmer than his, he couldn't help but note, but his bedsheets were thinner and fewer as if unbothered by the cold. An arm settled over his midsection and his best friend leaned his head to rest just at the crook of his neck, his soft brething steady against his back.

"Sleep"

Marzan's eyelids finally started feeling heavy.

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The following days were tranquil, and although he wouldn't admit it he did spend them almost exclusively suck to Abraxas' side, from their classes to their prefect duties and their free time… he was not worried or paranoid, alright? It was just- just the bad memories. To his secret embarrassment, none of their friends found this weird at all, as if it was the most normal thing ever, and that truly started to give him thought about just how much time they spent together. Surely this was new in this life, right? Not quite, even back then when he was twice as emotionally repressed, they stuck to each other just the same, with the only difference being that Tom Riddle was completely oblivious about it— Marzan was starting to wish he too were blind to it.

Fortunately he felt better about a week later, which meant they were at least not together twenty four seven, and he gladly took the distraction of his prefect duties to escape his self awareness.

According to the professors the aftermath of winter break was when students behaved their worse; at the beginning of the year they would be on their best behaviour and then it slowly went downhill, but during winter break they had a chance to be spoiled by their parents and then it was more or less chaos until summer break. He remembered they weren't so rowdy back in his days, but maybe that was only due to the fact he preferred to stick to the bare minimum of his duties… this time he found himself dealing with little snotty brats nearly every time he had an ounce of free time. Which, fine, he was happy to be a cruel monster and punish them, but they could be so annoying!

"Mr. Hagrid…" he pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling his eyebrow twitching. "The castle is not the place to keep an acromantula"

He had hoped the dumb oaf would've thought it better this time, but alas…

"Aragog isn't any trouble!" the third year protested, nervously wringing his hands. "He's my friend, and I've been feeding him correctly and all"

Marzan levelled him with a long unimpressed stare.

"Acromantulas can grow up to four metres in prime conditions, and I would argue being hand fed and not being threatened by predators is prime conditions. What do you plan on doing when it grows to such size?"

Rebeus Hagrid shrunk a bit more under his gaze, if that was even possible. Despite being two years younger and Marzan being on the taller side, being half a giant the teenager banged his head in nearly every doorway and constantly walked with his back bent to try and pass unnoticed. He was seriously annoying even now, but mostly just pathetic.

"Um…"

"That's what I thought. Pick up that trunk, we will bring it to professor Beery and return it to its proper habitat"

"Yes…"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for breaking the rules about pets" he started to turn around and a hiss from his collar interrupted.

«Master» Rai pointed at him with the end of his tail.

«Ah, right. Thank you»

Hagrid stared at the snake much like every time he spoke parseltongue, although there was a lot more fascination in his eyes due to his frankly strange obsession with animals.

"And ten points less for a lack of proper appearance. Your robe should be ironed, and you are missing a button of your vest" Honestly! Was he just set on being a mess at every turn? "And do brush that hair once you're back in your bedroom"

Hagrid blushed deeply and picked up the trunk with his 'pet', walking behind him silently as they made their way out of the little corner of the dungeons. It was just before curfew so hopefully he could go to sleep soon after this was done… as they walked he felt the weight of a stare on his back and he rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh.

"Do not blame me for your breaking of the rules" he said over his shoulder. "I am a prefect, not a friend bound to cover for it"

"… shouldn't judge then…" he heard being muttered.

He stopped and turned to face him directly.

"It isn't a matter of judgement. The rules of this school dictate every student must be polished and well groomed, your appearance is a direct representation of Hogwarts' teachings" he scolded firmly. "Regardless of what you believe people will judge you at first glance, and no ammount of good behaviour is going to win over anyone if you don't look the part. Nobody is demanding you change fundamentally, only that you are presentable"

One would think he would've understood that already. Tom Riddle certainly had from a young age, being a filthy mudblood and an orphan to boot. But even the lowest of the low can fool anyone if they play their cards right, and he had managed to climb very high just by acting as if he belonged there from the start… In Hogwarts they were taught the importance of a well groomed appearance from day one; all students were expected to iron their own clothes and mend them if need should rise, even the purebloods, although the house elves took care of everything else. Inevitably there were some snotty brats who would rather intimidate others into doing their chores, but for the most part it worked. The dress code wasn't as strict when it came to haircuts but that was no excuse to be messy and the vast majority of students, male or female, tried to look their best within their childish parameters.

Marzan resumed their walking with an ashamed half giant falling into step behind him and not too late after they ran across another prefect, McGonagall no less. The last time he'd seen her -and properly acknowledged her existence- she was an old woman crying out for the little Potter brat, and she likely cheered at his death too… now however, she was only fifteen and her face was not yet marked by war and death, neither did she want to become a teacher yet, having a promising quidditch career. Instead her eyebrows were pulled inwards in a poor imitation of a stern look, back straight as a rod and her dark hair braided in a tight crown around her head. Her uniform was perfectly starched and ironed, her badge proudly displayed on her chest, and she immediately eyed them with certain suspicion.

"Gaunt" she greeted curtly. "Is there any reason you're escorting Rebeus to this side of the castle at this hour?"

Unfortunately she was of the type of Gryffindor that didn't like Slytherins out of principle. She wasn't too hostile, but she was not kind either.

"McGonagall" he answered with politeness. "Yes, in fact I was hoping professor Beery would be available… you should join us"

Her frown deepened and her hands, clasped in front of her body, tightened.

"I know Rebeus isn't the type to do mischief or anything malicious—" she started to say.

"I never said he did" he interrupted, and offered an empty smile. "I need to speak to professor Beery about it, however"

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds while the third year glanced in between them anxiously, before she turned around sharply and started walking off. Marzan held in the urge to roll his eyes and followed instead, forcing Hagrid to run to catch up.

Professor Beery's office was just across the corridor from the entrance to Gryffindor's Common Room, and he let them in just after a short knock from McGonagall. The professor was evidently surprised to see all three of them come inside at once.

"Mr. Gaunt, what a surprise to see you here" he blinked, taken aback. "To what do I owe the visit? Has Mr. Hagrid been in any trouble in the dungeons?"

McGonagall bit her lip to hold in her opinion and Marzan nodded.

"My apologies for the inconvenience, professor, but the matter could not wait. I thought it was most appropriate to let you know Mr. Hagrid here is in possession of an acromantula" As his fellow prefect's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in shock, the professor let out a strangled sound and he gestured to the trunk with his head. "Yes, inside that"

The professor stood up at once.

"Mr. Hagrid, dear Merlin! Are you both alright?"

Marzan nodded and Hagrid quickly interjected without letting go of the trunk.

"He hasn't hurt anyone! Aragog is my friend, I— I know it was wrong to hide it but I just wanted to help" he quickly started to babble "He was little when I found him and I just felt so bad"

Professor Beery sighed and relaxed a bit, prompting him to put the trunk down.

"Mr. Hagrid, I know you have a very kind heart and love for all sorts of animals and creatures, but an acromantula is not a pet— once grown their venom is enough to kill a man, this is a school full of children! You could have gotten severely hurt, or it could have escaped and attacked other students"

"But Aragog is not aggressive!" he argued.

Marzan almost felt sorry for him as he and McGonagall stood back and let the professor handle it.

"An acromantula is an acromantula regardless of how much you like it. This is a serious matter! I—" professor Beery sighed. "Mr. Gaunt, if you would be so kind, please alert professor Dracul so that he may call a meeting with the staff. Please be sure to be there as well, and thank you for alerting me to this"

Marzan nodded and bowed his head.

"Yes, sir"

Well, it was truly not his fault that Hagrid was in this mess, and although he had no particularly strong vendetta against him (not anymore), he still was determined to do his job correctly… not to mention, if he played the situation right Dumbledore would have one less little puppet.

He stopped at the doors of his Common Room to place Rai in the hands of a confused and slightly terrified second year, instructing him to bring him to Abraxas since he had to attend to something else, and ushered him inside before he could protest. Elerhys found him outside his and Iraia's rooms, and instantly sighed.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything! I'm a well behaved student" he defended himself, and crossed his arms. "It's about a Gryffindor, actually, and professor Beery wants you to gather all the staff"

Elerhys frowned.

"All the staff?"

"Let's just say there was an acromantula involved"

Elerhys rolled his eyes and turned around.

"I'll get it done, you tell your father"

And he was gone in the blink of an eye. Marzan was unperturbed, used to it by now, and he opened the door to find Iraia.

About half an hour later Marzan, Hagrid and McGongall were standing in the headmaster's office with the entire staff reunited and the trunk in question placed in the middle of the room, tightly sealed with a spell. Discreetly glancing to the side Marzan was able to verify that Dumbledore seemed terribly displeased by the situation— it would not surprise him at all if he had orchestrated Hagrid finding the spider and then allowed him to raise it. Loyalty can be so easily won by enabling bad behaviours.

"Mr. Hagrid, this is a serious offence" headmaster Dippet shook his head in disappointment. "We regulate pets for good reasons, we cannot allow a dangerous creature run free through the school— yes, the Forbidden Forest is next to us, but we take appropriate measures to keep the students safe, measures that only fail in circumstances like these"

Hagrid was hunched all over, possibly retaining tears although it was hard to tell between all that hair. McGonagall glared at Marzan from the boy's other side, clearly blaming him for all of this, which— absolutely deranged of her for thinking that.

"Professor Dippet" she tried speaking up "I understand that he did something wrong, but Rebeus isn't trying to hurt anyone. He's very sweet, sir, he probably just wanted to help the spider"

Hagrid fumbled a moment but nodded meekly in agreement.

The professors exchanged multiple glances and Marzan let out a snort, unable to help himself, and then all eyes were on him.

"Is there something you wish to say, Mr. Gaunt?" Dumbledore asked gravely, inclining his head to look at him above his half moon glasses.

Neither of Marzan's parents liked his tone, but he was unbothered as he set his hands behind his back and answered.

"Yes, thank you. I know it is presumptuous of me to scold Miss McGonagall, but I think she is not understanding what is going on" She visibly bristled, about to snap, but he continued smoothly; "I do not believe Mr. Hagrid had any bad intentions either, quite frankly he couldn't do anything evil even if he tried… but ignorance and a lack of intention do not equate to a lack of responsibility, and he is responsible for bringing a dangerous and highly venomous spider into the school where any other child could have found it… most likely a Slytherin, since it was in the dungeons. Mistakes like that can still be deadly"

The Gryffindor prefect snapped her mouth shut and she lowered her red face, silent.

Professor Merrythought cleared her throat.

"While Mr. Gaunt is a bit too presumptuous indeed, he is not wrong. I would still leave it for the staff to say next time" he nodded with an apologetic smile and she continued. "Mr. Hagrid, this could easily get you expelled"

Hagrid gasped, horrified.

"Now, let's not get too ahead of ourselves—" Dumbledore laughed a tad bit nervously. "Mr. Hagrid is a dedicated student and surely his good intentions count…"

"They normally would, professor, but this is not a case of misbehaviour, it is a crime!" Headmaster Dippet exclaimed, clearly not happy to consider expelling a student. "When the board hears about this, they will not want to risk the safety of the students. Not to mention, Mr. Hagrid is dependant on a scholarship that could get revoked for this"

Hagrid was crying silently at that point, burying his face on his hands. McGonagall too looked close to tears and Dumbledore was unhappy, but all the other professors salve Elerhys weren't any happier about the circumstances. They prided themselves in trying their best to protect their students, and they were not quite managing that at the moment, neither for Hagrid or everyone else.

"Well— well we could certainly try to reduce the impact" Dumbledore insisted.

Elerhys let out a low growl that made the closest professors, Babbling and Ferlet, jump— it was easy to forget he wasn't human until his crimson eyes were glowing and his lips were pulled back to reveal his multiple sets of sharp fangs, like at that moment.

"Might I remind you, professor Dumbledore, that my son was already placed directly in front of that thing? He may be skilled and capable, but he is still a child too"

Hey, he was perfectly capable of handling it! Marzan wisely kept his mouth shut, and Iraia put his hand on his husband's arm, gently reeling him back.

"Arguing isn't going to take us anywhere" Iraia stated, although his face was cold and impassive. "Mr. Hagrid should deserve a second chance, and that we agree on. Therefore, we should focus on what we can do for him"

Slowly all the professors nodded and the headmaster sighed.

"Yes, indeed… Mr. Gaunt, please accompany Miss McGonagall as she escorts Mr. Hagrid to Gryffindor's Common Room before going to bed. We would appreciate discretion until any official decisions are made"

Marzan felt a little disappointed that he couldn't bear witness but he nodded.

"Yes, sir. Understood"

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Nothing had come of it in the next days, and in an ironic twisted turn of fate, he ended up running against one other child he had ruined in the past— literally. A third year Ravenclaw had come running down the hall while sobbing loudly and collided against him, bouncing back and ending up sat on the floor quite inelegantly. She was an ugly thing, with long dark hair that surely could do with a bit of a wash set in twin tight braids at each side of her head that fell over her shoulders and uneven bangs over her sweaty forehead, pale skin speckled with freckles and a bit of snot dripping off her too small nose. Honestly, her thick glasses probably helped a little on her appearance, and would almost be nice if not for the fact it made her look like a bug, with just how much zoom they gave to her eyes.

Ugh. Myrtle.

He stared down at her, at her crumpled skirt and chunky school shoes, and then leaned forwards a bit, doubling over at his waist.

"You are going to flood the hall with those tears" he informed her blankly, irritated by her unnecessarily loud crying.

He almost offered a hand, but frankly he didn't want to touch her dirty gloves or he'd have to change his, so instead he grabbed the back of her dress and pulled her into standing with a bit of help from the obscurial, and once she was on her feet he vaguely dusted off her shoulder. Her uniform was a huge mess, and it evidently needed tailoring to fit her better, hanging awkwardly at places and not tightening correctly at the waist, which made it look more like a sack than a dress.

"A Hogwarts student should never be laying about the floor like that"

She stared up at him for a moment before her lip trembled and she started sobbing louder.

"I-I'm…. WAHHHHH!!!"

What the— He felt a twitch in his eyebrow but schooled his face into neutrality. He had to be polite…. he had to… come on…

"Miss Warren, I cannot understand you if you keep crying"

That finally made her pause, even if slowly, before she was looking at him again, this time with… sparkling eyes.

"You… you know my name….?"

Fuck.

"…. Yes"And quickly, before she started again;"Please don't cry"

She sniffled miserably, wiping her nose with her sleeve, and he resisted the urge to pull a disgusted expression at the stain left on it and the moisture that dragged across her face. Did she not have a handkerchief!? Were all children this messy??

"You're the first person to be nice to me here" she whispered.

Oh, great— How was that nice, even? He was being cold, not kind! What was wrong with that little four eyes? Her standards were lower than the floor.

"I severely doubt that"

"It's true!" she sniffled again. "Everyone hates me and calls me ugly"

Marzan considered his words for a moment but found that he didn't have much of anything to say.

"Well, you are" he replied honestly. "And there's nothing to do about that, except not care about it"

She started tearing up again, recoiling. In only a few seconds she had completely crashed down from her high.

"You were born with that face, and lamenting yourself over not being perfect is only hindering you in every other aspect of your life. What does it matter if you're ugly or not? You are still able bodied and capable. All you need is to work hard" he stared down at her with steel hard eyes, refusing to coddle her.

She clutched her skirt with her hands, balling up the fabric and wrinkling it even more.

"Are you just going to tell me to love myself like my mum does?" she asked, already starting to grow angry.

"No. Accepting your fate and loving it are two different things. You do not like the cards you were dealt? Then do something about it. But that is not up to others to decide, only you" he looked down at her from his advantageous height. "Self pity is for the weak. Do you want to be weak forever?"

She fell silent for a long moment before she shook her head. Her sniffles were all that remained of her crying.

"Good. Now go wash your face and tell your professors about the bullying" he paused for a moment. "And if they do not stop, only if they do not stop, punch them in the face. Duelling is forbidden outside of class"

Myrtle stared up at him for a moment, before she looked down at her hands, let go of her skirt, and doubtfully opened and closed them.

"But I'm just a girl" she tried to argue, balling her hand.

"And? Who is going to expect a punch in here?" Speaking from experience— no, they never expected it. "And you're doing it wrong. Don't put your thumb inside or you'll break it. It goes over your fingers"

Myrtle slowly corrected her form and he nodded.

"Raise your arms, elbows folded, set them in front of your face to block incoming fists"

Now she looked almost ready to stop into a ring, and his lip twitched into a slight smirk.

"How do you know how to fight?" She asked doubiously, but now having forgotten her woes.

"That's for me to know" he clicked his tongue. "Now go on, off to your Common Room"

"Wait!" she adjusted her glasses and smiled nervously. "What if they hit back…? That would hurt"

Marzan raised an eyebrow.

"You will never get anywhere if you're afraid of getting hurt. Pain is unavoidable— just make sure they suffer more"

She nodded frantically and went on jogging past him, pausing near the end of the hallway to turn around and wave before she vanished around the corner.

Who knew if her life would turn out to be any good, now that she had a chance to make it past thirteen… Oh well. That was hardly his problem now.

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There was something just utterly wrong with people recently, he found after enough time spent handling rowdy teenagers.

"I think I am cursed" he announced one day during dinner. "People keep thanking me for being nice to them"

Tiernan grunted and didn't bother to look up, concentrated in his transfiguration book since they had an exam coming up and he wasn't doing too good with the stress of the OWLs.

"People like you, duh" Orion pointed.

"But why" he asked bluntly.

"You're nice" Alphard said innocently as he served himself a slice of apple cake for dessert.

Marzan stared at him for a long long moment, trying to process those words.

"I'm not nice—" he protested.

Nice! Him! How could he ever be nice? He was Voldemort for Merlin's sake, he had murdered hundreds of people and started one of the worst magical wars of modern history!

"Come on, you were chosen as a prefect because of your social skills, not only your smarts. You're charismatic, people are naturally drawn to you"

Well maybe, but he had developed those skills to manipulate others and use them for his own benefit! … Although it was true he had not done that since first year, and to be honest he had given up quite quickly after his friends simply decided to become his friends on their own accord.

"And you know things" Orion added. "You know way too much sometimes, to be honest"

"Shut up"

"It's true, you're a bookworm" he gestured vaguely to his entire person.

"Sometimes you just give a comforting air, you know?" Alphard shrugged.

… Maybe it was because he was much older than he apparented?

"I think you've gone insane" he declared.

"You're so dramatic! It's not a big deal, just— Abraxas, please tell him he's being ridiculous"

Abraxas had not participated in the conversation so far, focused on writing a letter to his mother with his swirly and elegant handwriting, but he looked up for a moment to comply.

"You're being ridiculous"

Wow. Very insightful.

"You'll grow used to it" Alphard insisted, rolling his eyes. "You're popular now, likely the most popular in the school"

That was absolutely not comforting!

He did his darn best to ignore it then, and he continued to ignore it as the days kept turning and he continued to be faced with the reality that… well, Alphard happened to be somewhat right.

Listen, this was simply not natural in any way.

Tom Riddle had been well known, yes, but not in a good way; his housemates were intimidated or charmed by him and barely tolerated him at best, while the rest of the student population felt a mix of dislike due to his status as a prefect, or they outright did not care about his existence. He had managed to spend all seven years of his school life perfectly unnoticed except when he needed something done, and at most was known just to be extremely smart and extremely cold. Most people hadn't even known he was the heir of Slytherin! But that couldn't be further from his life nowadays… In contrast, Marzan Gaunt's charisma had won him a place besides the most prestigious heirs of the magical world as an equal, had been adopted by two illustrious professors into a famous family, participated and won the Triwizard Tournament, his familiar was a dragon— it was damn inevitable that people were drawn to him and paid him attention and he definitely did not like it one bit. He didn't ask for it! If he could he would definitely take back everything and go back to being nigh invisible, thank you. What was worse was that recently he had even received a letter from the International Board of Healers asking if he would be willing to be subject to some studies during the summer, so now he could count himself as a lab rat as well. Absolutely fantastic.

He was seriously reconsidering his retirment from being a Dark Lord. At least then he would have peace! He would not be hit by random bursts of guilt when he was harsh, or by that strange need to soften his words once in a while.

… But was it truly a bad thing? Even after five years of constant change, there were many things he still didn't understand. This second chance at life had just proven that he was an utterly blind moron; in his childhood he had thought that he had been the unluckiest boy in the world, someone who had suffered through the worst of the worst while everyone else had perfectly nice things and a good life. But they really didn't, not even those who annoyed him the most. Hagrid was a useless idiot with a too soft heart, but his father hadn't been employed steadily since he was a teenager and could hardly afford to send him to school even with a scholarship and aid from the Ministry. Myrtle Warren was a crybaby and a daydreamer but she was mercilessly bullied for absolutely no reason. Even his arch nemesis, that Potter brat, painfully reminded him of his own young self, malnourished and thin, and with a look on his eyes that did not match with his age. And he— he had been the one to ruin every single one of them, even when they were so much like him. Lately he could not help but wonder what else he had missed.

Another blow to his already shaky pride came another week later, when he walked into the Common Room just before ten pm after his patrol, and Eileen Prince was sat on one of the couches in the dimly lit room, holding a handheld mirror up. Dark as it was it would not be unusual for anyone to miss it, but he could see much better than the average person—Eileen noticed him from the corner of her eye and flinched, dropping the mirror on her lap and turning her face away, moving her wand discreetly in a non-verbal spell. When he walked properly into the room, nothing was amiss.

Marzan paused, thinking to himself.

Hadn't there been rumours for a year already, about her relationship with a muggle? And hadn't he recalled that she would be married immediately upon graduation? He had thought— he had believed that Tobias Snape maybe had started hitting her after their son was born. But he had seen it, right now, when she was just fifteen.

"Prince" he greeted cautiously.

Her hands tightened in her hold of her wand and the mirror, and she stared up at him from where she was sat. She still wore her complete uniform, although her long black hair was loose instead of gathered away from her face.

"Gaunt" she answered curtly.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, and when he started parting his lips she quickly interjected;

"I don't know what you think you saw, but I'll appreciate it if you don't butt in"

He closed his mouth again. Well, what could he even do? Was it even his business? If he just let it be his life wouldn't be affected. Except— except he knew she would live miserably. He knew that her boyfriend would one day be her husband and he would never stop beating her, that their son would grow in the exact same environment and she would never be able to protect him, that she would die young in mysterious circumstances that nobody in the magical world would care about because she would've lost her family and would be disowned for her relationship. He knew that she would never get out because even now she isolated herself and had no friends or spoke to anybody else, like— like he had.

But he wasn't her friend, and she clearly would not appreciate his input, and he didn't know anything about domestic abuse.

"… Glamours are a decent choice but you might want to treat that" he decided to say instead after long seconds of hesitation, forcing his voice to be steady. "If you fail to apply them properly people will notice"

She examined him with distrust.

"Why would you care?" she replied.

"Would you rather live with the pain, then? Be my guest" he rolled his eyes, presenting a careless attitude. "Or, you could let me fix it and be on with your night"

It was now Eileen's turn to remain silent for a while as she weighed her options, but apparently she was not any well versed in healing spells, because she moved her wand slowly to undo the glamour in a silent invitation and he moved to sit across from her on top of one of the low tables, pulling his wand out of his pocket and creating a small floating light.

She looked horrible, with a blueish and green-yellow tint over her right eye and cheekbone. It must've been a bone bruise, to still be present even after a month. He didn't think he had ever been so severely beaten even during the worst days in the orphanage. It did not help that Eileen was a pureblood heiress, with a fairly pretty face of delicate proportions.

"You did not prepare any potions to help?" he asked as he moved his wand over the wound to evaluate the damage.

"… I am not well versed in healing potions" she admitted. "I have never considered them of any use"

Hmm, well she maybe should've, but he didn't say that.

"This might sting" he warned before he started healing it.

She winced and gripped her mirror tightly, but in just a few seconds her pale skin started regaining its natural hue and the swelling was gone, a more natural pink returning to her cheeks. She looked herself over for a moment, a subtle sigh of relief escaping her.

"There"

She nodded slowly.

"Thank you"

He slipped his wand back inside his sleeve and stood up again, but paused before continuing down the hall.

"Prince, have you…?"

"No" she interrupted. "It's nothing like that"

Right.

"Suit yourself" he shrugged.

"And—"

"I won't tell anyone about this"

"Good" she looked down at the mirror in her lap, and for a moment, unknown to her, she looked terribly defeated. "Good…"

Marzan walked towards the dormitories, but he was not planning on sleeping much.

.

.

He found Walburga the next morning in between some of his classes when she was in the library, studying for her NEWTs. She was alone, thankfully, and she at first didn't notice when he sat in front of her in the tiny hidden corner she liked to occupy for his studies.

"I need your help with something"

She startled and looked up from her textbooks, blinking in confusion.

"Um, good morning?" she replied, a bit lost.

"Ah, yes, sorry about that" he shook his head quickly. Too many things going on in his mind. "I apologise for interrupting you, but it is rather urgent"

Walburga nodded slowly.

"I would imagine, if you are coming to me and not one of the boys" she agreed. "What can I do for you?"

Walburga wasn't the overly sentimental type, but she was protective, especially so of her brothers, and Marzan had fallen under her wing since the last year when his whole drama about being who he was was revealed— he was grateful for that however, because if she didn't feel pity for him then she likely would've felt contempt over his halfblood status. At this point in her life she had everything, and being a young woman in a world for men she had grown knowing when and how to best support other girls. She had become Head Girl precisely because she was so well admired by the women in their house, and it was also no secret some of the worst behaved Slytherin boys were terrified of her for good reasons.

"Well, it's not actually about me, but this is out of my scope of influence" he could certainly try, and it definitely wasn't convenient that she would graduate at the end of the semester, but he knew likely only her could do anything about it. "It's about Eileen Prince"

Walburga looked ar him in confusion.

"Eileen Prince?" She repeated, and then sat back on her chair. "I know this isn't about a crush because you could not care less about women, so why the sudden interest?"

"Of course it's not a crush, I— wait" he frowned, thoughts derailed for a second. "What do you mean by that?"

"That you don't care about women? I mean, it's a bit obvious"

"Yes, but what does it mean?"

She looked at him as if he were dumb and he decided this was a crisis to have at another moment.

"Nevermind, we don't have time for this— I have reason to believe she's being hit by her boyfriend"

That actually made alarm flash over her eyes and she frowned, leaning forwards again.

"Are you sure about this?"

He nodded. He couldn't exactly tell her how he knew with certainty, but…

"Last night she was sitting alone in the Common Room when I returned from my rounds. She had a very bad bruise on her right eye, and it looked bad despite the fact it couldn't have been done any later than winter break. I healed it, she didn't want to talk about it so I didn't say anything" he tapped his fingers on the table while he recalled her pale face, and then her son's bitter and hateful expression when he had kneeled before him to be marked. "I'm a boy, she's not going to listen to me, especially when I do not have the patience to be gentle. But you are a girl, and she might be more open to conversation. And you could help her reach out to a professor"

Walburga let out a sigh and she passed a hand through her face, already looking a mix of angry and sad. He imagined she would understand Eileen's circumstances much better than he could ever dream of.

"Yes, I… I think I can" she nodded. "Did she say anything else?"

He thought back to her cagey attitude.

"No, I don't think so"

"And you didn't tell anyone else" she tried to confirm.

"No, I thought of asking baba, but… I don't think she'd appreciate it, not now"

Walburga winced.

"No, she really wouldn't" she closed her textbooks and started setting them into her bag. "Thank you for telling me this, I'll do my best to reach out" She then paused as she put her bag to her shoulder and reached to set her hand on his shoulder when he stood up as well. "Marzan— I know you probably do not understand now -or ever- what she is going through, but thank you. One day she'll appreciate it too"

He nodded, unsure, but at the end of the day she would know better.

Merlin, January wasn't even over yet. Why was everything happening so close together? Marzan stepped out of the bathroom after getting ready for bed. Tiernan was snoring softly and Orion's curtains were drawn which he preferred not to think about. Alphard was sat against his headboard reading a book in his own little world, and Abraxas had just laid in bed. Rai was in his enclosure as well, well camouflaged between the yellow leaves of the plants growing in it. He paused in front of his bed, put down his wand on its crystal case on top of his nightstand, and dropped down on Abraxas' mattress, slinging an arm over his torso and resting his head on his shoulder, landing just under his outstretched arm.

Before he could even start considering what he'd just done, he heard the faint sound of pages turning that indicated Alphard hadn't even noticed or just didn't find it any unusual. Abraxas didn't either, looking down at him with vague curiosity.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Exhausted from being a decent human being"

Abraxas's fingers threaded through his hair while his other arm readjusted the covers to lay over Marzan as well.

"I hear it's a terribly complicated ordeal" he replied with amusement.

Marzan let out a huff and looked up at him.

"Would you be terribly angry if I decided to become a Dark Lord instead?"

Abraxas' ministrations were already helping him relax, his fingers moving in a soothing pattern.

"Hogwarts lacks the curriculum you'd need"

Hmm, that much was true.

"Remind me to keep it as a back up plan" he mumbled as he closed his eyes and readjusted to lay his head comfortably.

He likely imagined it, but he could've sworn that he felt a faint kiss at the top of his head before he fell asleep. For better or for worse, he'd forgotten about it by morning.

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* There is nothing particularly interesting said about Hagrid or Myrtle in canon, so I have taken some liberties here and there. I already did that with everything else either way— Myrtle in particular I wanted to handle in a perhaps unconventional way. I believe she would benefit more from being given a 'reality check' than being consoled. While she may or may not be mentioned explicitly again, you can definitely know that in the background she is turning stronger on her own. Unfortunately for her bullies that just might mean she will send them to the hospital wing a few times… She'll have a good life.

* Tackling Eileen Prince was always a goal of mine. You will see her be mentioned more later too. Her story in canon is completely different of course, but we have already established I have zero respect for canon. My reasoning for these changes is that— well, it hardly does make sense for a pureblood heiress to simply go and marry a muggle. In canon it was mentioned she met Tobias and married him after graduating, but given what we know about other purebloods, why would she have not been married under an arranged relationship? When would she even have the chance to meet a muggle? In this case she met him as a child; there certainly is a window of possibility since I also did establish pureblood engagements do not ocurr until adulthood, and the children tend to have a bit more liberty to an extent. She would've been plenty enamoured by graduation in this case. …It also simply suits my purposes well.

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Ah, I do apologise for my long absence, I have been terribly busy updating another series of mine. Since the launch of RoP S2 I have been full force back into my Silmarillion era, I'm sure you understand the feeling. No worries though, I do not intend to abandon this work even if updates are slower for a while.

As you can see, Marzan keeps being haunted by his newfound human emotions… he'll figure them out eventually. Probably.

Do not have much faith on him being any less oblivious about Abraxas however.

Any comments or kudos are as always deeply appreciated—

I will, hopefully, be back soon.