ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ-ᴛʜᴏʀɴ, ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ-ᴛʜᴏʀɴ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ. ʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɢᴏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ, ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɢᴏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏʀɴ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ.
— ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇʀʙ; ᴀʟᴇxᴀɴᴅᴇʀ ᴄᴀʀᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ: ᴄᴀʀᴍɪɴᴀ ɢᴀᴅᴇʟɪᴄᴀ ᴠᴏʟ. ɪɪ 1900
Chapter Seven: Little Shop of Horrors
"Well, this was Sirius's Ancient Runes project," said Harry, the brown paper parcel that had been sitting in the bottom of his trunk balanced on his lap. "And—" His throat prickled "—and Dad's."
"You said Dad."
Ruby looked up, momentarily pausing her fidgeting with the tufts of crimson carpet under her fingers.
Well, I've been dreaming of him dying every night this month, James seems a bit impersonal at this point. But Harry couldn't — wouldn't saddle her with that. Not when their parents' death was the thing she was so afraid of.
Was that — was that what Mordred had made her scry?
Shaking his head as if to dispel that train of thought, Harry simply said: "Well, he is our dad, isn't he?"
Ruby shrugged. Harry tried to remember if she'd ever referred to their parents as 'Mum and Dad' in conversation. After all, Harry had been with them for longer, long enough to speak a few words, at least — maybe? He wasn't sure what age babies spoke at.
"You know, if you're not going to open it, I will."
Laughing, Ruby swiped at the parcel, managing to tear off a corner of the paper before Harry batted her hand away.
"Sirius said it was fragile!"
Harry scowled and tugged at the seam of the wrapping; it fell away to reveal a small, square, dirty mirror, like one used for shaving.
Already, Ruby was peering at it. "A magic mirror! That's one of the hardest artifices to make, do you know how rare this is?"
Harry had no idea about artifices and their rarity; he was more interested in the small piece of card paper that had just fallen out of the parcel. On it was written a note in a sure, slanting hand:
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘸𝘰-𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳. 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵; 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴. 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.
"Sirius?" asked Harry excitedly, holding the mirror up to his face.
"Huh?" Ruby tucked hair out of her face, staring at Harry with a confused expression.
Harry's reflection became a foggy image, swirling in the mirror like a watercolour painting. Slowly, the edges of the image grew sharper and clearer, until the face he saw staring back was not himself, but Sirius, grinning from ear to ear.
"I was wondering when you'd call," he said. "Are you—"
"Yeah, we're alone," said Ruby, sitting down on the bed next to Harry. "How's Mafalda and Tonks?"
Something grim passed over Sirius's face. "They're not here anymore, they were assigned to you two. No, it's just me and Kreacher now."
He smiled, rather unconvincingly. "How's school?"
"Well, Nott's back, so's Malfoy, and Bill Weasley's Defence." Harry didn't feel like discussing his 'lessons.'
"Nott?" asked Sirius disbelievingly. "After that stunt he pulled last year?"
"I know, I can't believe it—"
"Narcissa Malfoy sent Dumbledore a semi-threatening letter," said Ruby, poking her head in front of Harry's.
Sirius snorted. "Just shows how near and dear he is to Voldemort. Listen, you two need to be careful — Ruby especially, living in the serpentarium, as so to speak."
It reminded Harry a little bit of Luna's warning. But people were always telling him to be careful.
"Anyway, how's the Inferi — sorry, the Crouch case?" asked Ruby. "The Order's looking into it, right?"
Sirius paused for a second, as if listening intently for noise, head tilted.
"Oh, yes," he said. "It's definitely Inferi. The Ministry's hard at work to cover it up, of course — Mafalda's been laying low at Andy's, she's the 'unnamed employee' who found him, and there's no telling what Umbridge will do if she finds her."
Beside him, the blood had drained from Ruby's face; she was worrying the inside of her cheek, eyes wide.
"There's Inferi for definite, walking around?"
Slowly, solemnly, Sirius nodded. "And no prizes for guessing whom the master is."
"Hang on," said Harry, the image of Principles of Inferi Construction's cover in his mind's eye. "Aren't Inferi — aren't they dead people that've been bewitched."
"Yes."
I've just thought of something terrible. Harry wondered if he should say it.
"Er, you don't think they're the people who…. who the Dementors killed?"
He regretted it as soon as he said it. Ruby looked even more sick. Sirius's expression went pinched.
"No way to know, Harry, so don't speculate."
Don't speculate. That seemed to be everyone's favourite piece of advice.
"Are classes going well?"
Harry bristled at Sirius's obvious attempt to change the subject. But Ruby, looking grateful for the new topic, said:
"Yeah, actually, that's why we called. I've got no idea what to do for the Ancient Runes project, and the proposal is due in—" She counted off her fingers "— five days, on Halloween."
Sirius sucked in a breath. "Cutting it fine, aren't you? With the time you've left yourself, I'd look at books to see what's been done before, and what's easy. Remus should be able to help you find something."
Harry thought Sirius sounded very bitter. He could relate to that, being all alone and cloistered.
"Have you been out?" he asked and then wished he'd kept his mouth shut.
"Occasionally, when the Order needs an extra body on a raid," said Sirius, with a sardonic lilt to his tone.
"Raiding what?" asked Ruby.
Just then, the door swung open to reveal Dean and Seamus. Harry dropped the mirror onto his lap and tried to look normal. Ruby did the same, not that it was convincing. She never looked normal.
The two of them muttered greetings, and then made a beeline to the opposite end of the room, talking in low tones.
"Come on," said Harry, not wanting to stay here any longer and be made to feel like a problem in his own dormitory. "Let's go find Lupin."
Lupin was, as Harry expected him to be, in the library, shelving books. They found him in the Potions section, with a cart beside him full of titles such as Asiatic Anti-Venoms, A Collection of Above Three Hundred Receipts in Cookery, Physick, and Surgery, and Have Yourself a Fiesta in a Bottle!
It all sounded very riveting.
"Any good recipes in here?" Ruby poked Three Hundred Receipts in Cookery, Physick, and Surgery; the binding seemed to shrink from her touch.
Lupin jumped a little.
"No, not unless you're partial to pickled eel in a mildly poisonous sauce."
"Sounds…" Harry trailed off. "Delicious."
Carelessly, Lupin flicked his wand at the contents of the cart, and they flew into place on the shelves. "There we go. Now, what's the matter?"
"Can't we just want to visit?" asked Ruby slyly.
"Visit the librarian on a sunny Saturday afternoon?" said Lupin, chuckling. "No, I think not. Go on; spit it out."
"Well, the Hogsmeade trip for the Ancient Runes project is on Halloween and I've got no idea what I'm doing."
"Sounds about right," said Lupin. "Just a second, I'll see what I can do."
And with that, he disappeared into the stacks, leaving Ruby and Harry alone in the empty library.
After a full minute of silence, Ruby turned to him and said: "So is Riddle really training you to duel?"
Harry almost jumped, just like Lupin. "Where'd you hear that?"
They're not on speaking terms, are they? Why does everyone feel the need to go behind my back?
Ruby looked a little contemptuous, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Well, Riddle sent me a letter that I think was supposed to be threatening."
"Oh, like you tell me everything," Harry groused. "The whole reason he's here is because you went behind everyone's backs."
The instant he said it, Harry regretted it, but the damage was done. Ruby's face went cruel and pinched.
Just then, Lupin reappeared around a corner, and Ruby wiped (most of) the sour expression off her face.
"These," he said, heaving a towering stack of heavy tomes onto the table, "should be a good start."
Harry walked over to take a closer look. Though the sight of books obviously didn't thrill him like it did Hermione, reading the strange titles was always intriguing. Starting at the bottom was a fat, brown spine reading, From Mithridatium to Gu: A Compendium of the Most Deadly Poisons and their Miraculous Antidotes, then an azure tome with gold lettering, One Thousand and One Artefacts of Myth and Legend, a set of thin green volumes, Writing Solid Spells, What Every Artificer Should Know About Runic Diagrams, Spell Creation: A Top-Down Approach, and, on the very top in rich mauve, The Diviner's Toolkit.
"A good start?" asked Ruby, aghast.
"Well, you ought to have started weeks ago," Lupin pointed out. "Now isn't the time to be ambitious."
Ruby snatched the first book off of the pile, then pulled off One Thousand and One Artefacts of Myth and Legend with a modicum more grace.
"Good choice," said Lupin, smiling slightly. "I think you'll find something you can easily simplify in there."
Succumbing to ennui, Harry reached for the first green volume, Writing Solid Spells, and flipped it open to look at the card on the first page, scanning it for anything interesting.
In a small, cramped cursive was 01-10-1975 Severus Snape.
And directly below it, in jaunty, loopy handwriting was 15-10-1975 Lily Evans.
And then, 03-11-1975 Severus Snape again.
Under it again, 17-11-1975 Lily Evans.
Like they'd been passing the book back and forth.
Harry nearly made an audible sound, barely stifling it into a silent gulp.
"Alright, Harry?" asked Lupin as he looked up. He nodded.
Ruby was engrossed in her work, scribbling down notes.
"Yeah, fine," he said uneasily. "I'll just, er, leave you to it, then?"
"Don't get into too much trouble," said Lupin absently, but Harry was already nearly out of earshot.
Halloween at Hogwarts was an ostentatious affair. Even if Dumbledore did have an ego the size of Saturn's rings, Tee reflected, he knew how to throw a party.
Earlier in the morning, Hagrid had dragged in several cagefuls of clamouring bats (disgusting!). Vast pumpkins large enough to hold three men had been carved into intricate, golden-hued lanterns, and rumour had it that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the occasion.
But Dumbledore himself, and Tee by extension, was far more concerned with the guest of honour. Tee had gotten his first close-up look at the new Minister for Magic as she was escorted into the castle by Minerva, who looked as if she wanted the ground to come up and swallow her.
Following Umbridge were a flock of scarlet-robed Aurors, and bringing up the rear was a tall witch with platinum hair done up in a chignon, and sharply-tailored grey robes that reminded Tee of a cleric.
If anything, thought Tee, she's the one in charge.
He slipped around the corner and began to trail the procession. Minerva, he could tell, was straining to be polite, but it really wasn't working very well.
"I think you'll find the improved security measures completely satisfactory, Minister," she said, sounding as if she'd rather be in the pits of Hell than escorting Dolores Umbridge.
"But I heard the fifth-year Ancient Runes class was making a trip to Hogsmeade today," said Umbridge in a cloyingly-sweet tone.
Minerva twitched. "A calculated risk. I believe some of your own Aurors are escorting the class."
A trip to Hogsmeade? Umbridge surely couldn't get into too much trouble for an hour or two, not under Minerva's steely gaze.
"Hmph," said Umbridge.
Just then, the strange witch glanced over her shoulder, and Tee ducked behind an alcove, his heart thudding in his chest.
No! She couldn't have seen him. Not yet.
Slowly, Tee breathed out as the procession moved ahead. He'd find them later. Minerva could deal with this.
Now, about that Ancient Runes class…
Tee remembered the subject fondly, though, personally, he'd always preferred Arithmancy. One without the other just doesn't make sense, anyway.
It wasn't like he had to look for them — the cacophony was difficult to miss, nevermind ignore. There was Harry Potter's bushy-haired friend, then Nott Junior two paces behind with a Slytherin girl he vaguely recognized, a boy with an arm made out of some kind of metal and wearing a prefect badge, and last on the stairs, Ruby Potter herself, looking quite dejected.
Tee pressed himself further into the shadows of the alcove as they went past.
"Don't dawdle!" called a voice from further down the hallway, belonging to a rotund witch in camel-coloured robes.
"Oh, come on," said a familiar voice, right in front of Tee's alcove. "What's the worst that can happen?"
"You'd be surprised," said someone else in a dark tone.
None other than Mafalda Prewett and Nymphadora Tonks were standing outside of Tee's alcove, watching the Ancient Runes class continue down the hallway.
Mafalda Prewett is not an Auror, thought Tee. And then, with some irritation: Doesn't Dumbledore think I'm up to the job by myself? I can handle a few Inferi, thanks!
He waited until the two witches left to follow them down the hallway. With any luck, the Ancient Rune class would be done with their business in Hogsmeade before anything interesting happened with regard to the new Minister.
The air was bitter cold, and Tee was grateful for the Warming Charm on his shoes, his breath forming white puffs of steam as he followed the winding mass of black-robed bodies down the steep hill which led down to Hogsmeade.
No one had noticed him yet.
Like Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade was far, far, more sombre than Tee remembered. They stopped outside Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, the students bunching up into a small mob. Tee kept his distance, watching Mafalda and Tonks make their way through the crowd.
"Now," said the professor, "listen up, please. You have only one hour to find the supplies you've indicated in your project proposals, and you must find someone else to pair up with. If you're not back within the hour, we will have to search for you, and no one wants to do that — so be prompt!"
Tee barely held himself back from scoffing.
"And," Tonks added brightly, "if you need anything, or see anything, just send up a couple of sparks and we'll come find you. Alright?"
The students chorused their assent, and then scattered instantly. Tee took that as his cue.
Two Slytherin girls and the boy with the metal arm were heading in the direction of Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, the smaller and newer version of its counterpart in Diagon Alley. The aroma inside the shop was, as he remembered, distinctly unpleasant, with a mix of rotting sage and decomposing animal permeating the air. Tee placed himself behind a particularly noxious display proclaiming FINAL SALE! EVERYTHING MUST GO!
Into the bin. That would be a good idea.
"—he's so annoying, you wouldn't believe it," said one of the girls, shovelling moonstones into a small bag.
Ruby was busy studying a vial of salamander blood. She grimaced when a fleck of dark red stained the white gloves she had taken to wearing to cover the indelible marks on her palms.
"Yeah, ever since Malfoy's come back from Durmstrang, he thinks everyone's forgotten what a pain he is." She scooped a few vials into the crates she was carrying.
"I'll take some points off him," offered the boy brightly.
The other girl glared. "He's in our House, Goldstein. Even for a Ravenclaw, you really don't have any common sense, do you?"
Goldstein flushed. "I was only joking," he mumbled, holding a crate that looked already filled to the brim with shrivelled animal parts.
"Come on, let's go."
Tee watched as three students hurriedly paid for their items, then went back out onto the street. It might have been his imagination, but he thought Ruby might have glanced back at the display he was hiding behind.
Not that they would have heard him, with the noise they were making. The next stop, apparently, was a dilapidated shop whose roof was threatening to cave in, called 'Stitches and Draughts.'
"Why are we in a junk shop?" asked the other Slytherin girl officiously as Tee followed them into the dark interior.
"You know what they say, one man's rubbish…"
Very little light penetrated through the grimy windows into the cavernous, cluttering shop. A row of faintly-glowing quartzes strung up on the walls provided some faint illumination to the messy displays, advertising CRYSTAL BALLS LIGHTLY USED and GENUINE MAGIC CARPETS.
"You know those aren't real crystal balls, don't you?" asked the Slytherin girl as Ruby reached for one of them, threatening to upset the whole pile.
"Oh, shut up, Daphne," muttered Ruby.
Tee wished she would shut up. Trailing adolescents around was irritating enough as it was.
Goldstein was none the wiser, rifling around in a drawer full of broken jewellery.
"Hey, look at this!"
"SKKKKRSH!"
Tee's blood ran to ice. Without even realising it, he'd drawn his wand.
"What was that?"
"Lumos!"
The cold blue-white of wandlight barely illuminated their surroundings, the grimy shelves and broken wares, but did nothing to reveal the source of that earsplitting noise.
"SKKKKRSH!"
Daphne screamed, clutching at Ruby, who had backed into a display, sending its contents crashing to the floor. Tee whipped around, sick to his stomach, to meet a small, grey skeletal thing, rotted skin still clinging to its bones, limp clumps of blonde hair barely obscuring white, cloudy eyes.
"The sparks," Goldstein gulped out. "What about—"
He didn't think about it. Not really. He'd done this before, after all.
The Inferius burst into a spectacular, green flame, howling in pain as it collapsed.
"Come on!" Ruby pulled at Daphne, who had frozen, none of the three seeming to notice the source of the fire.
Just then, more skeletal forms stumbled towards them, one slashing at Daphne, who screamed again, loud enough to wake the death.
"Incendio!" shouted Ruby, and the Inferius caught on fire with a loud, rushing BOOMF! "Anthony, stop trying to do the sparks!"
Goldstein stopped frantically fussing with his wand just as one of the Inferius swiped at him. "Petrificus Totalus!"
Idiots!
Abandoning the shadows, Tee leapt into the midst of the small clearing, still lit by the burning corpses.
"You," said Ruby venomously, eyes narrowing.
Now wasn't the time. The Inferius that Goldstein was scrambling away from was instantly incinerated; two more caught fire as they lurched forward; the dark shop was lit from the inside with searing light as Tee made his way through the steps of a precise, soundless dance.
"Skkrsh?"
Sharp teeth sunk into his earlobe, and Tee cried out in pain — and then, burning heat rushed past him.
He glanced over his shoulder, pressing a hand to his bleeding ear. Ruby had her wand drawn, still glowering at him.
"You've been following us," she said. It wasn't a question.
"And?" Tee shrugged a shoulder. No good deed goes unpunished, clearly.
The other two were looking at him with interest. To Tee's horror, he realised they'd both seen him before — Goldstein the night of the Siege of Hogwarts, and Daphne in the Slytherin common room. There was no chance of him being able to just melt back into the shadows.
Unless…
"Obliv—" he started.
"Tom Riddle," said Goldstein, staring at him with a faraway look. "The Heir of Slytherin. That's who you are, isn't it?"
If anything, the air in the shop grew yet more tense.
"What do you mean, the Heir of Slytherin? That's a legend! It's never been proven!" said Daphne, giving Tee an evaluative glance as if she did not think he seemed worthy of such status.
Show her, said a little voice. It's your own fault no one takes you seriously anymore.
Just then, something creaked in the back of the room, and Tee turned towards the door. The students followed hastily, clearly not wanting to deal with whatever other monsters might be back there.
"—that's what you said though, right, the Heir of Slytherin?"
"Yeah—"
"There's no such thing!" Daphne sounded more like she was trying to convince herself of his non-existence.
"You saw him destroy those Inferi like he was in a Defence practical!"
"He's probably an Auror who specializes in Dark creatures."
"Ruby?" asked Goldstein pleadingly.
Tee almost heard her scowl. "Yes! Fine! He's real! Look, we've got more stuff to worry about, like the Inferi! What if there's more?"
"There won't be any more," said Tee through gritted teeth.
The trio behind him finally and mercifully fell silent.
"Um, why wouldn't there be any more?" asked Goldstein.
"Because it's not about killing the largest number of people possible. It's about sending a message," said Tee, almost without thinking.
I suppose this is why Dumbledore wants me around. To understand how Voldemort thinks.
Ruby looked like she wanted to say something as she sped up to walk ahead of him, but thought better of it. Goldstein was still looking at him curiously, mouth agape, while Daphne studiously ignored him.
He watched as they rejoined the group, looking, from a distance, decidedly shaken. Tee wondered if the other two would tell anyone of their strange encounter as he followed them back up the hill towards the castle.
Besides, he had to turn his mind to the next challenge; dealing with the Minister.
He checked the time and swore. Cutting it fine!
When he got to the Great Hall, the Halloween feast was already in full swing. Some of the students were dressed in fanciful costumes, from historical figures to magical creatures. The hall was full of halos of golden light from the massive carved pumpkin lanterns lining every ledge and wall, casting eerie, long shadows. The school ghosts floated merrily between the tables, and Hagrid's live bats fluttered under the dimming ceiling, lit by the stars of the cold, clear night.
Just ahead of him, at the professors' table, sat Umbridge in the place of honour beside Dumbledore, and to her right, the strange witch from before. The Headmaster, catching Tee's eye, smiled and beckoned.
His tongue clung to the roof of his mouth, suddenly dry from the anticipation. A glittering pitcher of blood-red candy apple juice caught his eye; hastily, he downed some of the sickly-sweet liquid.
"Hey, nice costume!" called a girl dressed as Babbitty Rabbitty.
"I'm not wearing a costume!" he spluttered.
"Great staying in character! That's exactly what a vampire would say!"
Tee looked down at the red liquid in his goblet, touched the bloody smear on his mouth, and sighed before making his way down to the professors' table.
Dumbledore smiled again as he drew near, but the expression did not warm his eyes.
"Tom… Minister Umbridge… Minister Umbridge… Tom."
The table was tense. All of the professors were peering at him; Tee could feel their inquiring gazes.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Minister Umbridge," he said quietly.
"Why, hello, dear." Umbridge's laugh was hard and tinkling. Like glitter, or glass shards. "I don't think we've met."
"No, I don't think we have, Minister," Tee agreed.
"And what year are you?" asked Umbridge, leaning forward.
"Tom is assisting with some special projects," said Dumbledore smoothly.
Minerva looked particularly contemptuous.
"Really," said the strange witch, looking directly at Tee.
Could the Inferi have something to do with her?
"Narcissa Malfoy," she said. "Special Advisor to the Minister for Magic."
Oh.
Tee's fingers found the scars across the belly of his forearm that Abraxas Malfoy had carved many years ago, the cursed wound still just-healed. Bile rose in his throat.
"So, what exactly is it that you do?" Narcissa pressed, looking him up and down, almost as that girl had in the shop.
"Ah, Tom aids with various clerical affairs," said Dumbledore in a jovial, careless tone. "I never have had much of a head for numbers."
Don't play stupid, old man. It doesn't become you.
"Most practical," said Umbridge, sounding pleased with that explanation. "Don't you think, Narcissa?"
"Quite."
To Tee's relief, the conversation soon wandered away from him. Which meant, of course, it was far easier to do what he'd come to do in the first place.
Learn.
People really thought that all you had to do to avoid a Legilimens was to evade their stare, but that wasn't true, not really.
Her mind was too weak to bother with such things.
The sounds of the feast dulled around him.
He slipped inside, settled in Umbridge's mind, and spread out, like water along a riverbed, or a rope of climbing ivy across a wall.
He was in his element here. He'd known how to do this as a child — before he even knew what magic was.
The very first thing Tee noticed was how incredibly dull her mind was. Strict. Regimented.
An obvious pattern that was easy to exploit.
Floating in and out of consciousness, half at the feast, mechanically smiling and conveying his fork to his mouth as appropriate, half studying Umbridge's mind, Tee delved deeper.
It felt familiar.
Fear.
Cold, coiling, craven, cowardly.
He dove. The water bubbled above him, forcing his head down.
"Are you all right?" asked Narcissa, all polite concern.
Tee nodded and breathed through his mouth.
But he needed to go towards the fear.
Sink deeper.
The waves threatened to drown him, and he let them.
Colours burst behind his eyes.
…It's everything I've ever wanted… said a nervous voice.
…If I make a mistake with this, the Dark Lord will kill me…
…Being Minister wasn't supposed to involve being under the thumb of the Dark Lord's spymaster…
There!
Agile as a lockpick, Tee slipped through once more. The cold, white surroundings of an office appeared around him. He'd never been in the Ministry, but still, an office like this seemed out of the ordinary. As if it belonged to someone important, had been made to certain specifications. The ceiling soared unusually high. The sounds of Narcissa's quill scratching against parchment were unusually loud.
There were no pictures on the desk, no certificates hanging on the walls, no mementos nor knick-knacks. This was a place, quite simply, to get business done and nothing else. No distractions
"Really, Mrs. Malfoy?"
Tee wasn't sure whether he was really hearing the voice, or whether it was in Umbridge's memory.
"You didn't think to alert me that you were planning something like this?" asked Umbridge, peevish and tinkly.
"Why would I do that?" Narcissa murmured, barely looking up from the papers strewn over her imposing white marble desk.
"Because I am the Minister!" snapped Umbridge, quaking with fury. "You cannot undermine my will! Go behind my back!"
"This may seem cliché, Dolores," said Narcissa, finally looking up. "But I already have. Barty Crouch Senior is dead. I apologise if you feel I have overstepped."
"A death this early in my career as Minister, and under these circumstances—" Umbridge's voice rose in irritation as she paced back and forth, kitten heels tapping fiercely against the white floor.
"You think too small," said Narcissa.
"My power will look illegitimate!"
Umbridge whirled around, her expression frantic, even slightly crazed. "The Dementors have only just receded — now — now Inferi, too! Remember, spymaster, I am important in this plan! I must remain Minister!"
"Oh." Narcissa's voice had a deadly, poisonous quality as she stood up, hands folded in front of her. "I wouldn't count on your irreplaceability. We all have roles to play, that is true, but you are not so unique."
Tee saw her shudder.
"The Dark Lord has a plan, Dolores," said Narcissa, drawing in front of the window, a false tableau of a snow-capped Diagon Alley before the two witches. "All of our mistakes will be wiped clean. The world will be as it is meant to be.
Tee, watching the window too, could smell Umbridge's fear, a dark, heavy stink in the air.
Slowly, a smile spread across Narcissa's face, and Umbridge copied the expression. Tee could not shake the impression of a mouse between a cat's claws.
"All part of the plan, Dolores. Yes, you may be a pawn in the Dark Lord's game, but, rejoice! There are far worse fates that await those who refuse to play."
Tee knew it well. The fear of losing control.
The familiar, eye-popping headache of rendering a long memory assaulted him as the Great Hall's sounds, sights, and scents suddenly flooded his senses at full force. The sensation was vertigo-inducing. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and forced himself not to wince.
Dumbledore broke off his cheerful conversation with Umbridge, meeting Tee's eyes with a questioning, probing gaze.
It is done.
The Headmaster's expression remained as serene as ever, but Tee could detect a faint trickle of curiosity just before the connection between them was severed.
Tee's gaze darted to Narcissa. That memory meant she had to be the one behind the Inferi in the shop. Had they been sent specifically after Ruby Potter? Or were they meant to simply kill whatever poor soul was the next to wander in, for the sole purpose of sowing more chaos?
Well, he clearly couldn't just ask. Or even insinuate. Not when he hadn't gotten the measure of Narcissa yet. His head was still spinning, after all.
"Oh, wonderful!" said Dumbledore, clapping his hands. "It appears the entertainment has arrived!"
Everyone at the table looked up, Tee straining over his shoulder to see the doors to the Great Hall thrown open, he reached for his wand before realising that the dancers were not more Inferi, but simply charmed skeletons frolicking between the House tables.
Glancing at Narcissa, he noticed her attention was not drawn to the entertainment but to a boy sitting at the Gryffindor table and laughing at something the student next to him had just said.
First, she possibly sends Inferi after Ruby Potter, but now, all her focus seems to be on her brother.
She wasn't just looking, either. Her gaze was intense. Predatory. As if she were trying to figure out what to make of him.
Honestly, Tee couldn't blame her. He'd done the same. He'd stared at the boy Ruby had begged him to save, an Obscurial on the cusp of death — how could that sickly, skinny boy whispering out his last breaths in the Hospital Wing be Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the vanquisher of Voldemort, the Savior of the wizarding world?
It was… insulting.
"Our very own celebrity, Mrs. Malfoy," said the Potions Master, with the distaste clear in his voice. "Harry Potter himself."
Narcissa's smile, like Dumbledore's, did not warm her eyes. "So Draco tells me." And then: "I imagine his presence here has been trying for the other students."
"I don't know what you mean," said Minerva, leaning around Dumbledore to glower. "All of his professors have nothing bad to say about him."
Hagrid, at the very end of the table, nodded vehemently. The Potions Master snorted.
It appears Potter has many supporters.
"That's a relief to hear," said Narcissa, her gaze sliding, surprisingly, to the Potions Master — Professor Snape, Tee recalled.
Snape said nothing, silently stirring his goblet of mead.
Clearly, Minerva had just the effect Tee remembered. No one particularly felt like arguing with her.
"It is amazing," Narcissa went on, probing delicately, "how both the Potters were miraculously revived from near death. Who is it that we have to thank? Nicholas Flamel, perhaps? I recall he was at Hogwarts some years ago."
She's still staring at Harry Potter. Why? Tee had to admit that the circumstances around the boy were interesting, and in their training sessions, he'd proven himself to be… not the most annoying student he'd ever tutored, but he struggled to understand what was so intriguing about him, other than the prophecy.
Harry had stopped laughing now, attention drawn away from his friends and towards the professors' table. His gaze flicked accusingly between Tee, Snape, and Narcissa, as if not sure at which to direct his ire.
"Professor Flamel has been a great help," said Dumbledore.
He still didn't know about the trick with albedo. Tee hadn't told him yet, and he doubted Ruby had, either. Though he knew Dumbledore strongly suspected Tee had a hand in it — if one Potter, why not another? In this strange deal, their fates were bound, anyway.
"There's just—" Narcissa smiled "—so much death around them. One can't help but wonder if these things have a price. As Waffling's First Fundamental Law says—"
"Tamper with the deepest mysteries ― the source of life, the essence of self ― only if prepared for consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind."
He should know, after all. He'd paid the consequences. Fifty years of them.
Everyone around the table was staring at Tee.
"Yes," said Narcissa. "That's correct. You'll have to excuse my prying. It's not often I find myself in an academic setting anymore."
"What is it that you do exactly, Mrs. Malfoy?" asked Minerva sharply.
Dumbledore shot Minerva a warning glance, but she ignored it. For her part, Narcissa turned her cold, even smile on Minerva.
"I assist in guiding the wizarding world towards peace and stability, through whatever means possible."
Tee couldn't help but think of the Sorting Hat's song.
Or perhaps in Slytherin/You'll make your real friends/Those cunning folk use any means/To achieve their ends.
"And what means are those?" asked Minerva, clearly unsatisfied with Narcissa's careful evasion.
"If I recall," said Dumbledore, almost too lightly, unwrapping a pumpkin-flavoured lollipop, "the Dementors disappeared soon after you were elected, Minister Umbridge?"
Seeming pleased at finally being addressed, Umbridge responded, "Yes, I swiftly dealt with the threat that Minister Fudge could not." She patted the black velvet bow quivering on the top of her head. "It appears that destiny had something far greater in store for me than being the Defence Professor. Really, Dumbledore, I should be thanking you for the termination."
Tee didn't miss the bitterness in her tone that her candied voice was desperately attempting to mask. His irritation only exacerbated his searing headache.
"Destiny is going a bit too far, don't you think," muttered Minerva. She looked as if she wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in chains as she had on the night of the Siege.
Umbridge grew pained, and remarkably toad-like, Tee thought. I see the Ministry is just as useless and even more corrupt than I recall.
Just then, clapping sounded out from the crowd below. All of the skeletons turned in unison and bowed, then skipping out of the hall, bones rattling comically.
"And the evening draws to a close," said Dumbledore. "Will you address the students, Minister?"
Umbridge's reluctance was clear; she obviously wasn't much of an orator, but all the same, she got to her feet.
The crowd that looked up at her was not at all welcoming. Most of the students looked something between bored and furious.
"Thank you, Headmaster," she began, "for the most gracious invitation. It is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, and to see all of your little smiling faces again."
No one at all in the Great Hall was smiling.
The quiet that usually filled the Great Hall when a professor was speaking was slowly lost as Umbridge droned on. Silence gave way to shuffling, shuffling to giggling, giggling to whispering, and whispering to talking. Even Tee felt his attention waning.
Minerva looked more and more as if she had tasted something sour; Snape looked far-away. Only Dumbledore seemed to be listening. Narcissa had her hand over her mouth, as if trying to conceal her smug expression. The bug-eyed Divination professor was shaking her head back and forth, evidently distressed.
"… now, any questions, dears?"
Instantly, Umbridge realised she had made a mistake as several hands rocketed into the air; the question had been intended insincerely and rhetorically.
"What about the Inferi in Hogsmeade, Minister!" burst out a familiar voice. Everyone turned towards the Ravenclaw table, and Tee recognised the boy from earlier, Goldstein.
Umbridge blanched. "There is no such thing!" she insisted, black velvet bow quaking as if in a storm.
Tee knew better. As if sensing something in his expression, Dumbledore peered at him curiously.
"Poor child," said Narcissa coolly, without bothering to inject a hint of compassion into her tone. "The whole family hasn't been the same since he lost his arm."
"Professor Babbling?" asked Dumbledore, turning to the Ancient Runes professor. "Were you at all aware of this?"
"No!" said Babbling. "The visit was completely without incident. It must be a prank. A cruel prank. But yes, a prank. It must be."
"Fear not, Professsor Dumbledore," said Snape, sneering slightly. "The boy is prone to wild flights of fancy."
But why wouldn't they tell the professor? Did Ruby warn them off?
Below them, the Great Hall had erupted into chaos, some students revelling in Umbridge's fright, others clamouring and arguing amongst themselves, several shouting at Goldstein to shut up. The chaos was magnetising. Tee couldn't help but be drawn to it.
"Stop calling him a liar, I saw them too!" shouted Ruby, popping up from the Slytherin table to glare at everyone. The dark-skinned boy next to her was grinning ear to ear, looking around excitedly at the drama unfolding. Another boy, one who reminded Tee eerily of Abraxas, looked, as if for confirmation, at Narcissa.
"Like anyone would believe her after what she did!" called out one of the Gryffindors.
Umbridge looked enraged, Tee thought. Pushing through his headache, he reached towards the burning, swirling core of anger and fear within her as she faltered, teetering on the edge of an explosion.
"Well, they are probably telling the truth," said a Ravenclaw, "that's what you get for hanging around with a Potter, anyway!"
Motion in the corner of his vision caused Tee to turn away from the Ravenclaw table.
A redheaded boy at the Gryffindor table started to get up before Harry and the bushy-haired girl pulled him back down.
Tee chanced a look at Umbridge again. She appeared to have been drained of all colour, her wet eyes wide, livid, and incredulous at her loss of control of the situation. The Potions Master's schadenfreude seemed to have triumphed over his composure. Minerva looked even more annoyed than she had the entire evening as insults and jibes flew across the hall.
"Look, I just think we all need to calm down," said a tall Hufflepuff in a diplomatic tone, standing and spreading his arms as if to steady a spooked horse.
"Thank you, Mr. Diggory," said Dumbledore, getting to his feet as well. The Great Hall instantly fell silent. "This is a troubling revelation; however, fortunately, the Minister has brought with her several highly skilled Aurors, whom I am sure are up to the challenge of uncovering and dealing with this threat. In the meantime, do try to remain civil."
He's forced her hand. She can't say no.
And quieter: "You will investigate, won't you, Dolores?"
The black velvet bow had pulled out of its knot, hanging limply on either side of her face.
"Yes, of course, Dumbledore," she said, looking subdued, but the sugar in her voice had fermented into sharp, sour vinegar.