Albus didn't reappear at the townhouse until after dinner, with Severus in tow. When they arrived, Sirius directed them to the library where Tom had been holed up the rest of the day. It was there they found him pacing, a book in his right hand as he absent-mindedly twirled the Slytherin signet right on his left, his forefinger twisting the ring in circles on his middle finger in thought.
"I would like to apologize for the delay- I was trying to confirm that no news of your arrival had made its way to unwanted ears," Albus said, folding his hands. Back was the composed Headmaster that was so common, but Tom could tell he was still unnerved and frazzled by the turn of events. It was no matter. The Headmaster had every right to it, as did he.
"Of course- Sirius and Harry and the others were getting me more caught up on current events," Tom said, closing the book he'd been skimming. "We will need to take a jaunt to Hogwarts; the sooner, the better." Tom paused, looking at his wrist watch, "Now, if you're able to spare the time."
Albus blinked, his head tilting almost imperceptibly. "What do you need or hope to find within?"
Tom gestured around him, "The Black Family library is vast and enviable, but there are two places that the Slytherin family grimoires are kept and charmed so that they cannot be removed and that is the Slytherin Family Vault, and the Chamber of Secrets," He explained, grabbing his satchel from where it had been sitting on one of the winged back chairs. "Only the actual Lords' Grimoires are in the Chamber, but given that Voldemort had accessed the Chamber in his tutelage, then that is a better starting point than worrying about the entirety of the family grimoires in the vault."
"It's a source of Dark Magic that most people couldn't fathom at their beck and call," Severus said with understanding, his face darkening at the implication.
"Ten points to Slytherin," Tom said, stepping past the pair and out of the library, anticipating they'd follow without further prompting. "I would like to bring Harry along with us as he is the one who was last physically within it. He could answer any questions that arise."
"I shall take my leave, then," Severus drawled, pausing to stand in the entryway of the library.
Tom paused as well, looking back at the younger man. "You have more important things to do than see Salazar Slytherin's private Chamber?"
It looked as though the comment was causing the man physical pain, his cheek twitching as if he was biting the inside of it, "I would not choose to subject myself to Potter's dribble and boasting."
Tom tilted his head in confusion, eyes narrowing. "What?" He asked, his own memories and knowledge of Severus conflicting horribly with the man that was standing in front of him.
"Albus, if you have no further need-" Severus said, looking to the Headmaster, but Albus raised his hand, interrupting him.
"I would ask you join us," the Headmaster said calmly.
Severus sneered and closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again. "If I must."
Tom didn't wait to hear whatever exchange was likely about to occur between the Headmaster and the Potions Master and instead headed towards the front sitting area where the teens were sprawled playing a card game.
"Harry, would you be amenable to accompanying Albus and I to Slytherin's Chamber?" Tom asked, all of the teens pausing in their game to look at him.
"Oh, uh, sure!" Harry said excitedly, popping up off the couch, "Hold on, I just need my shoes."
In short order the four took the main fireplace in the upstairs sitting room that Molly had only just finished cleaning out earlier that day to the Headmaster's office. Tom cleared his throat as he ducked and stepped through and flung an arm out to catch Harry as he stumbled through, nearly falling to the ground.
"Wizarding transportation is awful," The teen grumbled, dusting himself off, and Tom smirked. Fawkes greeted them with a pleasant chirp from his perch beside Albus's desk, eyeing him.
"Hello, old chap," Tom said to the bird, who cocked his head at Tom before spreading his wings and swooping over and landing on his shoulder, letting out a shrill noise Tom had never heard before.
"Fascinating," Albus said, watching the interaction, his eyes thoughtful behind his spectacles.
Tom adjusted his stance, lifting his shoulder and arm slightly to better accommodate the large phoenix who was inspecting him closely. "In what way?"
"Phoenixes are an excellent judge of character. Fawkes was never overly fond of Voldemort when he was younger as a student- but especially so in his later years at Hogwarts," the Headmaster explained. Fawkes let out another chirp that Tom took as agreement. He met the phoenix's eyes for a moment, grey staring into black and then the phoenix let out another pleased chirp.
"I mean, given he killed Moaning Myrtle in his fifth year," Harry said quietly from beside Tom, "I'm not really surprised."
"Quite," Albus agreed, and beside him, Severus looked both bored and irritated by the entire exchange.
"To be fair, Fawkes was also wary of me when I was a student," Tom said, reaching a finger up and pausing short as he waited for permission from the phoenix, who began rubbing his face and beak over Tom's fingers enthusiastically.
"Would you like to accompany us to the Chamber of Secrets as well?" Harry asked of the bird, and the phoenix turned his attention to the teen and let out a loud yelp. Tom winced as Fawkes beat his large wings, smacking Tom in the face a few times as he took off. The phoenix made one sweep of the room before disappearing out of the room through the only window.
"We shall see momentarily if that was a yes or a no, I suppose," Tom said, straightening back up and rolling his arms. "Shall we?"
"So, why are we going to the Chamber?" Harry asked as he and Tom led the other two towards the second-floor girls' lavatory.
"Salazar's study, which you neglected to see in your second year, houses several grimoires- duplicates of the ones in the family vault, which are the originals, I believe," Tom explained, and Harry nodded his head in understanding.
The lavatory in question was not far from the headmaster's office, which historically made sense. Tom had learned in his time as a student that Slytherin's office, class and quarters had rooms that had been restructured into several classrooms and a girls' lavatory in the Hogwarts renovations that incorporated plumbing into the castle, under the watchful eye of Headmistress Burke, who held the Slytherin Lordship at the time.
Clever and diabolical of the Headmistress to hide it in a girls' toilet for the men of her line.
He touched the stone as they neared the bathroom in question, feeling a subtle difference in the stone where the renovations had taken place, running his hand along the wall as they neared the bathroom.
"How did you determine where the entrance was?" Tom asked Harry suddenly, drawing the four up short at the door.
"Oh! Well…" Harry paused and looked over to Albus and Severus and pressed his lips together in thought. "The first message Voldemort left when possessing Ginny was outside it-" He said suddenly, looking to Tom, gesturing to the wall. "And there was water everywhere like it had flooded. Everyone just assumed it was Myrtle cause she does that occasionally, which is weird cause I don't think I've seen any other ghosts be able to touch stuff, but it's a Myrtle Thing." The teen rambled with a shrug.
"And then Myrtle had told us that she died in the toilet and Hermione had written, "pipes" on a piece of paper before she was petrified, so I just realized it was likely here." He finally finished, looking to his feet with embarrassment. Tom was impressed, given everythin,g but felt like he was possibly leaving pieces of the explanation out, given the look he'd shot at the Headmaster and Potions Master. Especially having learned what he and his friends had gotten up to in his previous years.
Harry cleared his throat, opened the door and led the three other men in. "You here, Myrtle?" Harry said loudly, but the sound just echoed through the room.
"Depressing that she chose to haunt this of all places," Tom said quietly, remembering the awkward girl who had been both in his house and year when he'd been a student. She and he had been… not friends by any stretch of the imagination, but acquainted, yes. They'd been the only Slytherins in the third year Arthimancy morning class slot and tended to sit beside each other as a result, but the girl had been even more awkward than he was at social interactions. At least Tom was good at pretending and blending in.
Harry nodded and walked over to the circle of sinks to the one that Tom knew had an engraving of a small snake on either side of the faucet. " Open. "
The sink began to sink downwards and into the stone, revealing the opening to a large pipe. It was a grand bit of design from Burke, given the period and the implementation of the plumbing in the first place, to also have all of these additions. He had tried to ask Burke once if she had recruited outside assistance but the witch was offended by the question and insisted she didn't. Not that he fully believed her.
"You seem unsurprised about Harry's ability to speak Parseltongue," Albus said, and Tom looked over at the headmaster.
"The implication there being that you were surprised?" He asked lightly but could see from the assessing look in Albus's eyes that he had been, or rather he'd been more surprised than the Tom and Albus on his side had been. "Harry's counterpart who I am acquainted with is also a parselmouth," he explained instead. "I believe it was his second or third great-grandmother who was Indian who was also a parselmouth."
"It hopped more than a few generations," Albus said with a frown.
Tom shrugged. "I mean, given the wonkiness of magical traits on a gene pool and not really being able to determine if they are dominant or recessive or how other magical traits interact or counteract them, it's hard to tell if it's simply a recessive trait that Lily had as well, but until wizarding kind gets more interested in genealogical testing we won't really know."
"Lily was a muggleborn," Severus drawled, eyeing the giant hole in the ground that they were only several feet away from. "It is highly unlikely she carried any secret recessive magical traits from an ancient pureblood familyt."
"Yes well, everyone is related at some point way back," Tom said, moving to stand next to Harry, who was watching the interaction with fascination, like a ping pong ball bouncing back and forth between the three adults. "Some blood purists used to try and suggest that muggleborns stole magic, but I would be willing to wager quite a large sum that instead what happened is as wizarding kind moved in and out of periods of isolationism that certain families would interbreed to the point of extinction and when their squibs descendants married into muggle families it passed down certain latent magical traits that were not being expressed enough to show that they were necessarily a witch or wizard or have enough ability to wield a wand but just enough to read palms or tarot or perform some of the more basic pagan rituals for prosperity and the like-" He paused and shut his mouth when he realized he was rambling and all three were staring at him, eyebrows raised in unison.
"Pardon, it's something I find fascinating, given the Gaunt line." He said with a shrug and then looked back to the open face of the large pipe. "Stairs, please," he hissed.
The steps to the spiralling staircase emerged.
"That's brilliant!" Harry said excitedly, peering over as the stairs emerged.
"How did you get down if you didn't take the stairs?" Tom asked, already fearing the answer.
"Well, we didn't really have much of a choice, so we kind of just," he waved his hand in the direction of the opening, "Y'know, jumped."
Tom blinked and wondered if Albus and Severus were staring at the boy with the same look he had or if they were somehow used to this. "Mister Potter, are you telling me you jumped down a dark hole in the ground of indeterminable depth?"
Harry blushed bright red. "Well… it sounds stupid when you say it out loud like that."
Tom couldn't help the horrible wheeze that escaped him as he lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I am absolutely baffled at the fact that you are somehow still alive, " Tom threw both hands up, "On the bright side I don't need to worry about you falling off the stairs because you'll be fine apparently," He said as he took them down two as a time, not bothering to look over his shoulder if the others were following because he could hear their footfall behind him. At the bottom the entryway was collapsed in, and Tom recalled Harry explaining there had been a cave-in of sorts.
Flicking his wand with no particular care or form to it he sent off a silent Lumos Sequi , an orb of warm light floating gently above them, bobbing about two or three feet above the group, casting their shadows long on the cave floor as he took the damage in. There was a small pre-teen-sized hole in the rubble that Tom knew for a matter of fact that none of them would fit through.
"So, uh, when we came down Lockhart got Ron's wand," Harry said and pointed to a broken column that would had once marked and framed the corridor that led into the chamber, "But Ron's wand was broken and his memory charm backfired and sent him flying backwards and it knocked all that loose- but I was already on this side here," the teenager said, stopping beside Tom once more and gesturing to the half-covered corridor in front of them.
Tom nodded and waved his wand, moving the rubble away and pausing when some more fell, but ultimately cleared a slightly larger path for the four.
He paused and stared at the rubble, daring it to move or groan, give him any indication it was not stable, and when it remained silent Tom stepped forward and touched the stone, knocking on a few pieces and making sure there was no immediate give to them before ducking slightly underneath the opening he'd made. The other three, who were all marginally shorter than he was would not need to, but his height could both be a blessing and a curse.
Once they passed the corridor, the chamber itself looked nearly identical to the chamber when he had found it in his fourth year- untouched, uncleaned for hundreds of years. The major difference was the large corpse of Nirah contorted awkwardly in front of the statue of Salazar, like a horrific sacrifice, large splotches of what Tom had to assume was blood coating the marble stone as the four approached. Tom felt something low in his stomach clench at the sight.
"Should it have, y'know, decayed?" Harry asked, and Severus scoffed loudly.
"Of course not- something as powerful as a basilisk would take decades to even begin decaying," The Potions Master snapped and Tom could practically hear the other man rolling his eyes.
Tom blocked out the rest of the exchange, slowly walking around to the front of her, her mouth still open at an uncomfortable angle and touched his hands gently to the scales. Severus wasn't wrong- he could still feel the latent magic and power in her corpse. Most beings' energy, magic, soul, what have you, would have long since passed on, but something like a basilisk or a dragon, especially in their home territories, left so much behind he could practically taste her magic hovering under her skin.
He had never been the praying sort- not when he'd worried about bombs being dropped on the orphanage or that his friends might be killed in front of him, and even when he felt a tug to put his energy out in a manner akin, it had always been a gentle and humble request to whatever magical power lapped under the land. So here, he took a moment and closed his eyes, pressing his hand forward gently against the tip of Nirah's snout, his magic reaching out and intermingling with the residual magic of Salazar's familiar.
"What did he do to you?" He asked quietly. He didn't know if the magical pulse was a response to his words or instead the wave of emotions he was trying to repress. This was not his Nirah. Nirah was safe in the Chamber on his side of reality. TJ had bid her farewell with Tom at his side right before his graduation. Confusion and regret simmered under the surface, and Tom pulled his head back, blinking his eyes open but keeping his hand as an anchor on her snout. He took a deep breath and turned to find the other three watching him closely. Albus's eyes were not narrowed, but they might as well have been for the look he was giving Tom, his blue eyes hard behind his half-moon spectacles. Severus was just a bit pale, still taking in the actual size of the basilisk, but his mouth was pressed into a thin line, otherwise revealing nothing. Harry was hugging himself, rubbing his hands up and down his forearms as though cold, looking spooked.
Tom pocketed his wand and raised his left hand, gesturing for Harry to step up to him, "Come and put your hand here."
Harry raised both eyebrows, looking at Tom, then the basilisk and back again, but the Gryffindor didn't hesitate further, stepping forward and stretching his hand out to imitate what Tom was doing.
The teen jumped when he made contact, his hand flinching away for a moment before he placed his hand back again. "Is- is it-?"
"No, that's what remains of her magic, bits and pieces of her- it's why she hasn't decayed yet," Tom explained. Tom couldn't feel exactly what Harry was feeling, but he could feel his magic, warm and young and bright, interacting tentatively through the touch.
"She was… sad?" Harry said quietly, his face scrunching with confusion, looking at Tom.
"I had mentioned her purpose was to protect students in case the castle ever came under attack," Tom said, nodding his head. "I don't know what he did to her, but I wouldn't think a simple imperio would control her in the same way it would a person. Whatever he did was… dark." He didn't like to throw the words dark and light around so easily, but there was no other way to describe it. Whatever Voldemort had done to her, she had been a wild and majestic creature, and it was as if he'd reined her in and muzzled her.
Tom paused, trying to recall the words because he had never needed to speak them himself, though he'd heard them enough before.
"Hail the Traveler," he said, letting his magic skim along the basilisks again. It was merely a reflection of what she'd once been, and to even have felt that much emotion from her barely there underneath the surface said volumes for the amount of duress she'd been under before her death. With their acknowledgement, it was like she had collapsed back to a solid pool, the ripples ceasing.
"We commit you back from where you came, to the arms of your ancestors. May there be peace where there was anger, may there be healing where there was hurt. Go quickly to the place that your old ones called home." The rest of the prayer was for those who grieved her, and unfortunately, here, in this place, that was only Tom, and he did not want to upset Harry or Albus, so instead, he omitted the words and finished, "Hail the Traveler. We celebrate your journey."
He hadn't realized the pressure in the room had been mounting as he had been so focused on remembering the words, but he could feel it; his ears clogged slightly, his jaw itching to open and pop them.
"What's happening?" Harry asked, looking at him and then back to the basilisk and Tom tilted his head in silent contemplation. The only time he'd felt this kind of pressure rise from magic was in rituals, which all featured closed circles. But he had not drawn a circle, so he was confused as to how one might close a circle that was never opened in the first place.
"We opened the connection with touch," He said finally and reached over quickly and grabbed Harry's wrist as he realized the boy was about to pull away, "We did not open a traditional circle, but that does not mean you walk away and break connection- we will close it as is proper, even if we didn't open it as such."
Harry stared at him as though he was speaking a different language, and Tom realized he might as well have been since this Harry had been raised by muggled. He sighed and released Harry's wrist. "Just- wait."
He took a breath, once again recalling words because he usually had very little patience for the ancient rites and rituals, no matter how wonderful and spectacular and binding they could be for one's magic. He attended rituals; he did not lead them, but he'd been to enough of them that he knew most of the words. Almost all of the old families completed each of the sabbat rites and rituals without fail, usually opening them as grand and elite parties, but outside of those, Tom was very bad about keeping up with any of them.
"Guardians of the Watchtowers of the North, we thank you and bid thee hail and farewell," If Theon were there he would strangle Tom with his necktie for garbling it so, but he hadn't exactly come into this in preparation for leading a fucking circle in the Chamber. He only had a moment to realize he couldn't tell which cardinal direction he was facing and that he didn't dare let go of his contact on Nirah, so he didn't include any of the turning about and bowing bits and hoped that wouldn't affect it at all, "Guardians of the Watchtowers of the West, we thank you and bid thee hail and farewell," he felt the pressure ebb substantially and sighed before continuing, "Guardians of the Watchtowers of the South, we thank you and bid thee hail and farewell, Guardians of the Watchtowers of the East, we thank you and bid thee hail and farewell," He tooked another deep breath the presence all but abated and resisted the urge to roll his eyes, hurrying the words along in a rushed fashion, eager to be done with it, "May the circle be open and yet forever unbroken and furthermore and whatnot, merry meet and merry part and all that good nonsense."
He felt the magic sink- the majority of rituals he'd attended took place outside, and the magic usually seeped into the ground. Here, it didn't seep so much as rain down on them and splatter about, and he resisted the urge to twitch his neck and shake himself off. Instead, Tom let out a, "Oh thank fucking Merlin," in parselmouth and the moment he lifted his hand Harry jumped back, rubbing his palms together.
"What are you playing at?" Severus asked, his eyes narrowed.
Tom turned and blinked at the younger man and shook his head. "My intention was only to show Harry the magic that lingered was sustaining her body," He explained, his eyes drawn back to the darkened spots that surrounded them, walking in slow, measured steps along them. "Pardon, but it's not like I have ever sacrificed a basilisk and utilized their magic in death before, so I was a little out of my element."
He paused, some of the blood disappearing under Nirah's body, and he drew in a breath. "You said you stabbed her with the sword- was there a lot of blood?" He asked, looking over his shoulder. Harry was still standing where Tom had left him, looking contemplatively at the basilisk and he nodded his head, but also heard Severus scoff. "Obviously."
"Where were you standing when you stabbed the book?" Tom asked, looking around at the marble floor.
"Um-" Harry shuffled back, shifted left a bit, looking around like he was trying to orient everything just so. "About here, I think." It made sense; portions of what Tom assumed were ink darkened the floor, but it could have been grime mixed with the blood as well so he hadn't wanted to assume.
"You accidentally raised a circle." He said finally, looking at Harry, who still looked very confused and then to Severus and Albus, as he knew both of them would understand, even if the boy did not. "He didn't walk it himself but he was standing at the epicenter of a circle of hyper-magical blood, and essentially committed a blood sacrifice of a thousand year old magical familiar- I don't know if I'm more surprised it stayed contained in the circle or that it didn't all go ass over tea kettle the moment Harry stepped back into the circle."
"But, I didn't try to- y'know," Harry sputtered, stepping away from the basilisk and closer to Albus, "I wasn't planning to kill her or use her like that."
"Magic is nine-tenths intention, but the remaining one-tenth is just sheer power," Tom said, gesturing to the circle of blood that had long since dried into the floor.
"I don't even know what a circle is-" Harry rambled and Tom rolled his eyes when Severus snorted. "I wouldn't know what any of that was or what it looks like- I just needed to stop him and save Ginny."
"Someone cannot sustain a ritual circle for three years ," Severus scoffed, sneering and folding his arms in front of his chest. "It's ludicrous you think a twelve-year-old could accidentally set and maintain one."
"One would also say it's ludicrous to claim traveling through space and time to end up in another dimension is plausible, but here we are," Tom said sharply, giving a little pivot on his heels and turning toward the base of the statue.
" Open ," he hissed and the door to the inner sanctum slid open.
The inside did not look any better than the outside, but at least it was significantly more telling at an immediate glance. There was a section of shed skin in the burrows to the right directly as you walked inside the base where Nirah was typically in hibernation. Shredded fabric and wool and furs lined the edges of what would be her nest, but the base of it had been totally upturned, the stone floor revealed instead. Candles littered the floor at the points of the pentagram drawn in what could be chalk on the stone floor, and the moment Tom stepped into the room, it was like he had stepped into a miasma of death and necrosis. He tried to take a deep breath, but that only made it worse. It was almost like he could feel the dark magic cemented into the ground and creeping up the walls like vines. It tasted like death and despair and necrotic- a festering wound, rotten and-
Tom stumbled backwards into the main hall and turned and threw up. He braced his right hand on the wall and steadied himself, grateful he hadn't had anything since lunch so it was all liquid, but his stomach was rolling at the feeling of wrong ness that was permeating from the other room.
"What is that?" Harry asked, sounding equally horrified. They had followed him into the statue and Harry and Albus had stepped forward at the threshold of Nirah's destroyed nest, but neither stepped into the room. They likely both felt the necrosis he'd felt, or perhaps they just had seen his reaction alone.
"That, Harry, is a proper circle," Albus said softly, raising his wand. Tom was fairly certain he was casting diagnostic spells, trying to determine what had happened in the room, but unlike before in the main chamber in Harry's circle of blood, this circle was long since dead, ended properly years and years before. The issue was that the magic that it had held had been so vile and dark that it had thoroughly corrupted the space.
"He desecrated it," Severus said quietly from where he stood. Albus had taken a slow and cautious step into the room and the Potions Master could see in it without needing to step to the threshold. It was slight, barely there, but Tom saw a small shiver run through the man.
Tom swallowed the excess saliva and nodded, clearing his throat as he straightened. "I feel like if I start chanting 'what the fuck ' I won't stop, so I'll leave that side to Albus," Tom managed to get out and saw Severus give him a measured look, but didn't deign to reply. Instead, Tom turned and headed in the opposite direction, directly across from Nirah's destroyed nest.
Of the spaces, this one had been spared from absolute destruction, for which Tom felt grateful, at the very least, because of the historical connections alone. Everything was laden with a small layer of dust but looked mostly untouched, save for the fact that, ironically, one of the bookshelves had been pushed in front of Burke's portrait. Tom withdrew his wand and levitated the bookshelf back into its rightful place and turned to find Headmistress Burke waiting for him, watching with calculating eyes.
"Tom Riddle," she said quietly. Unlike the portrait that hung on the entryway to the Slytherin dormitory, this was a full-length portrait and appeared to have been completed when she was younger. She stood at what Tom assumed had been her actual height in her lifetime with her brown hair braided intricately framing her face, dressed in her best attire, an ornate dress of blue and gold with a formal matching cloak clasped with a jewelled brooch. She folded her hands in front of herself, her shoulders set back with pride.
"Headmistress Burke," Tom replied with a nod, "Or Auntie, whichever you prefer."
Helen Burke gave a sneer that would put Severus to shame, looking like she might even hiss at him. She'd never been the maternal type, never had children of her own and had named one of her nephews her heir, the first of which who had come from the Gaunt line.
"Albus informed me of what has transpired," She said, tilting her head, and Tom nodded, moving around the desk and swiping dust from it so he could begin pulling the grimoires from the shelves that lay in a row behind it.
"Colour me surprised," he murmured.
"I think he was looking to corroborate some of the information you provided, including that I was the Lady of Slytherin in my time." She paused and sniffed. "I had not revealed that information to anyone who is still alive."
"My deepest apologies then, Headmistress," Tom said. "In my timeline you and I had discussed it at length."
"Especially considering you came back to become the Head of Slytherin House," she said, and this was without bite, almost affection. He turned and looked at her.
"I had assumed it was you, or rather, him ," she said and her eyes shifted from Tom towards the entryway of the study. Severus had stepped into the room, and Harry was inching into the frame as though he wanted to follow but was loathe to get any closer to Severus.
"Hello, Severus," She greeted, her voice clipped, proper, but then turned her attention back to Tom without giving the other man a chance to respond. "However, he located the chamber while I was in my other portrait. It's not like I spend much time here, given it had been centuries since any had attended."
"He moved the bookcase in front because you used a permanent sticking charm," Tom said slowly, recalling his suggestion to Sirius just the very day before, and Burke nodded her head.
"Yes. I could hear movement and knew someone had accessed the chamber, but he'd cast several spells around my portrait, so I was unable to see or hear anything except the occasional muffled noise." She grimaced. "But when the girl was killed and I felt the stink of death magic in the other room, I suspected it was him. Dippet wouldn't hear anything about it, though."
"Yeah, he was pretty good at manipulating people like that," Harry finally said, getting into the room as Severus had stepped forward and tentatively held a hand, silently asking for permission to see one of the grimoires and Tom passed him the one that he'd just pulled from the shelf.
"Do you plan to make copies of all of these or is there a specific one you're looking for?" Severus asked, opening the grimoire and gently flipping through several pages.
"Copies- given this could be a source for whatever he'd done in Nirah's nest, we may need to read through all of them to be sure." Tom grimaced. "It will be unfortunately tedious."
"May I recommend beginning with Eirlys Slytherin's grimoire?" Burke suggested.
Tom turned and looked at her. "Could you save us the read and provide a CliffNotes version?" He asked, remembering that this Burke was not endeared to him the way the one was in the Chamber on his side.
"Pardon?" She asked, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes.
Tom sighed and handed the grimoire in question to Severus, who had already begun silently duplicating each with a spell and stacking the completed ones to the side. "The abridged version."
"Hmm. She was Salazar's sixth or seventh great-granddaughter," she explained. "Her brother, Arwel, had been the Lord when his wife and two children were killed in a revolt. He went mad with grief and spent what was left of his short life trying to bring them back. His sister began her grimoire shortly after their deaths when it became clear to her that her brother would not make a recovery, so to speak."
"How does this specifically relate to the current issue?" Tom asked, wondering if Burke had a point of if she was just fucking with him. It would be unlike Burke to waste time on something so frivolous, but weirder things had happened in the last forty-eight hours.
Albus had finally emerged from Nirah's nest, looking unnerved, which made sense. As he took in the exchange, he silently conjured a bag and instructed Harry to begin shrinking and storing the duplicate grimoires in it.
"Arwel became obsessed with a magical artefact known as the Resurrection Stone," Burke said. Tom frowned, the words sounding familiar but not enough that they immediately rang a bell. "He was convinced that Eirlys' husband was in possession of it and planned to kill him for it. Eirlys discovered his plot and decided for their safety, it would be better if Arwel met a sudden and unexpected end." Burke's lip twitched ever so slightly. "That leads us to the reason I am directing you towards her sordid tale- the guilt and grief she felt about killing her brother when he himself had been so overwhelmed in grief drove her to… an extreme solution."
She paused, and Tom watched her flex her knuckles slightly, touching the rings on her hand and he drew a breath in, starting to remember what the woman was referring to. It had been decades since he'd last read any of these, and he'd retained the older ones even less, given how difficult they'd been to parse through, often in other languages and old English and Gaelic.
"She claimed to feel a tear in her soul and that she tore it apart to stem the pain," Tom said, cutting into the silence.
Burke blinked and looked at him and nodded her head slowly. "I believe the words she used were 'tore mine soul asunder to cease thine screams.'"
Tom turned and pulled Eirlys' duplicate grimoire from the stack, which Harry had not dumped in yet, flipping through it. Her handwriting towards the beginning in the passages was neat, easy to read quickly, but about a third of the way in, the script became significantly harder to read. "What was the outcome?" He asked, trying to skim- "I don't recall what happened, but she is our direct ancestor, so they had children."
Burke nodded, but her gaze was not on him, nor anyone else in the room, like she was staring past all of them. "They did. But you won't find anything in the grimoires there about it."
Tom paused in his flipping and stared at Burke, waiting for her to elaborate but when she didn't, he prompted her, "Why not?"
Burke didn't answer immediately, still staring past them as if lost in thought. She finally took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders ever so slightly and looked back to Tom. "Her husband, Phoebus, knew something was wrong because Eirlys became cold and distant. More calculating and indifferent. But when I added my portrait to the chamber, I decided to… remove his grimoire from the collection."
Tom paused, confused. "His? Eirlys' husband's grimoire?"
"I thought you said they couldn't be removed?" Harry asked and Tom was reminded this was wasn't just a two-person conversation, blinking at Harry for a moment before nodding his head.
"That is correct," Burke said with a grimace. "It is still here , in the room, just concealed. It was the best I could do, considering the enchantments Salazar had placed. Once a grimoire is submitted, if it belonged to a Lord or Lady of the Slytherin line, it cannot be removed from the Chamber."
"Why did you conceal it?" Tom asked, stepping around the desk.
Burke looked down and fidgeted with the rings on her hand once more. "It would not do well to open Pandora's Box. My sister and I thought it best to let the information die with us."
"Pandora's Box is open, Burke, we have a Nazi Wizard running around who won't stay dead, if there's a time to help us close Pandora's bloody Box now's it." Tom snapped, stepping closer to the portrait. "That madman had to have used something from this room that kept him stuck around when the killing curse rebounded off of Harry."
Burke blinked, considered what he said, and then slowly nodded. "You are… correct." She looked at her hand again, to the rings there and then back to Tom, then over his shoulder, directly to Albus.
"I concealed the grimoire of Phoebus because it revealed that he did in fact have possession of the Resurrection Stone." She said, lifting a hand and gesturing towards the front of the desk that faced outwards to the rest of the room. "Under the desk and the rug, there. There is a bit of stone that will sound hollow you should be able to levitate up. Underneath is his grimoire."
"You didn't use magic to conceal it?" Severus asked, confusion and skepticism clear as Tom levitated the desk back enough to fold the carpet up, kneeling as he began to inspect the floor.
"Part of Salazar's enchantments keeps things from being concealed, at least very subtly," Burke explained, clearly irritated about it. "I made several attempts but each time my sister was able to locate them with ease- eventually I tried a more… mundane alternative, which she could not locate."
Tom knocked on the stones until he found one that was slightly more hollow than the rest and levitated it as well, finding an absolutely ancient cloth-wrapped package and reached down to withdraw it from it's hiding spot.
"The Resurrection Stone is a myth," Albus said, finally breaking the silence he'd been happy to let stretch, his voice underlaced with something that Tom couldn't identify.
"False," Burke said, a small and smug smile twisting on her lips, and Albus seemed to go a little ashen.
"How can you be certain?" The Headmaster asked, stepping closer to the former Headmistress.
"Because," she said, pleased she'd been able to unsettle Albus. "I had it."
There was silence in the room as Albus stared at her. Tom looked up from where he was still kneeling on the ground, hidden grimoire in hand and he and Severus both watched their interaction closely.
"Is anyone going to explain to me what the Resurrection Stone is because I'm clearly the only one not in the loop," Harry said, looking between Albus, Tom and Burke.
Burke smirked again. "A story within a story? Very well."
"Twas once three brothers who travelled along a lonely road betwixt the day and night." Burke said, her attention moving to Harry, "They followed an ancient path to a raging river where boats and bodies lay broken against the shore and a smell of death hung in the mist. But, learned in the ways of magic, the three brothers withdrew their wands and conjured a bridge from the wreckage and proceeded to cross."
"As they reached the center of the bridge, a hooded figure appeared, cloaked in darkness and starlight, a beautiful and terrifying presence that brought the brothers to their knees," Burke continued, "A haunting voice, like a banshees call or a siren's song congratulated the brothers on their cunning and brilliance, but in truth he was angered that he had been cheated the souls of the three brothers. Unaware of his deceit and assuming him to be of the sidhe, the brothers accepted when the ancient being offered each them a gift of their choosing."
She paused and looked remorseful for a moment, lost in thought, before lifting one finger. "The eldest brother, Antioch Peverell, was a warrior. He had lead many a man into battle and was known for his bravery and strength. Of the ancient being, he requested a wand that would be more powerful than any other. The ancient being summoned a broken branch from one of the elder trees that lined the banks of the dangerous river and, running his hand over the gnarled wood, shaped it into a beautiful wand before he bequeathed it to him."
"The second brother, " Burke said, raising a second finger, " Cadmus Peverell, was an arrogant man but also bereaved. He had been engaged and lost his love to a mysterious illness, and requested the power to recall the dead from the grave. The ancient being summoned a small stone from the riverbank and tumbled it over in his bony hands, shaping it until it resembled a beautiful gem and bequeathed it to him."
"Finally, the ancient being came to the third and youngest brother, Ignotus Peverell, " Burke continued, raising a third finger, her forefinger, middle finger and thumb held aloft in count, " who was the most humble and wise of his brothers, but also the only to recognize Death for what and who he was. Not a fae, as his brothers assumed, but an undying primordial force. With this knowledge, he requested something that would allow him to go where Death could not follow. Hearing his request, Death snarled, but acquiesed and removed his traveling cloak made of the very stars themselves and draped it over the youngest brother."
"Having bested Death himself, the three brothers finished their journey. But Death took comfort in that he would have his due, for power in the hands of mortals very rarely played well in their favor and a moment for Death is but a lifetime for another. Antioch was measured at the start, but with each battle conquered and each foe felled, his insatiable need for power continued to grow. Before his hair could grey or his shoulder stoop, Antioch would be killed by one of his own sons, poisoning their father and slitting his throat while he slept for good measure. And thus, Death took the first of the brothers for his own."
"Cadmus returned to his home and, excited to be reunited with the witch he loved, turned the stone in his hands thrice before the woman appeared before him, just as beautiful as she had been before the illness had taken hold. He rejoiced, springing forth to take her into his arms and twirl her about, only to realize she was but a wraith. She was not alive, as he had hoped, but not dead, her soul called back from the grave, but not in an earthly body. At first, both were happy, promising each other that they would work together to find a way to truly bring her back, but the longer her soul remained, the more the pair suffered. Her presence drained Cadmus's magic and Cadmus had to banish his beloved to regain enough strength to bring her back lest it bring him to the grave as well. Both grew angry and embittered. Despite years of searching for answers and a way to bind her soul back in the flesh, Cadmus found nothing and eventually dispelled his love for a final time. He also married and begat a line, but it was as if the stone had sucked all of the life out of Cadmus and eventually his wife found him having hung himself from the rafters. And thus, Death took the second of the brothers for his own." Burke paused and visibly swallowed, her eyes a bit glassy.
"But Ignotus was different. He watched both his elder brothers succumb to their follies and refused to do the same. Death searched for him long and hard, but nary a scent or sign of the man was found, and it was only when the youngest brother had reached a great age and lived a life of love and laughter with his own family that he took off Death's Cloak and gifted it to his son. Death was humbled himself when Ignotus greeted him at the very bridge they'd met upon as a friend. Having never encountered a mortal such as he, Death promised Ignotus that he would not seek retribution on any of the Peverell line other than that they wrought upon themselves, and Death and Ignotus departed life together, as equals."
Burke lowered her hand as if only just realizing it was still up.
"Your maiden name was Peverell," Tom said, having pushed himself to his feet towards the end of her story, piecing the puzzle together slowly. "If you had the Resurrection Stone, then you and Phoebus were both descendants of Cadmus."
"And you," Burke said simply, nodding.
Tom unwrapped the cloth around the grimoire and was only a little surprised that he only found one, very thick, grimoire within. "Where is the Resurrection Stone, if not here?"
Burke's eyes narrowed. "Do not seek the stone. It will not help you in any way you need."
"You speak as if you know from experience," Albus said quietly, softly. Tom had not been watching the headmaster the entire length of the story, so he did not know when his expression had turned from ashen and harsh at the mention of the stone to something softer, but it was jarring nonetheless.
"I do ," Burke sneered. "You will waste away trying to find words to express your regret and remorse and spend hours and days and months and years trying to understand the what-ifs until you waste under your own existential dread." Her expression had turned vicious, "It was only when my sister pried the stone from my hands and kept it from me that I learned that grieving and mourning is not done for the dead but for the living- that we all die and while we should love and live we should not linger on the dead lest they drag us into the grave with them."
A heavy silence hung in the air, and Burke worked to compose herself.
"You hid his grimoire to keep the knowledge that it existed in the family hidden, and your sister hid the stone so you and others would not find it," Albus said, his shoulder sinking slightly when Burke nodded her head.
"His grimoire detailed the manner in which he helped Eirlys," Burke finally said. "Between Eirlys' and Phoebus's grimoires, you should be able to piece if either of those can aid you with what the Other Riddle has done."
A/N: HERE WE GO, WE GET MAGIC LORE. WE GET SLYTHERIN LORE. WE GET HALLOWS LORE. WE GET HORCRUX LORE LET'S GO BABY. EXPOSITION EXPOSITION EXPOSITION!
Fawkes is like "aye who the fuck this ain't the crazy one aight, you good dog you pass the vibe check."
Harry uses his one brain cell to pick a reason for why he ever went into the girls bathroom without revealing he stole potions supplies from Snape to make a polyjuice potion. Ten points to Gryffindor. (J/K obviously but literally of the four houses, Harry would be put in Ravenclaw dead last. I love this boy like my own, but a Ravenclaw he is not)
Myrtle is not about because why would se be expecting visitors in the middle of the summer. She's off on vacation.
We discussed in a previous chapter that Tom is UnsurprisedTM that Harry is a Parselmouth because of his Indian heritage since I also subscribe to the headcanon that the Potters are partly Indian. James and Harry (and Fleamont and the rest) are more darkly complected than most Brits, but not enough that most people immediately pin they are Indian. If anything most assume they have more Spanish or Italian in them. Harry and James are the first in the more recent generations with enough UK in them to have freckling. I actually have a family tree that is fanon to this universe and then another one that is fanon to Tom's universe because I am a neurotic neurodivengent overplanner, but the answer is the same in both that Harry's Great-great-great grandmother is Indian, from a very affluent and magically powerful Indian family. Her name is Asha and she was a parselmouth and she is screaming with unfiltered joy from beyond the grave the first time Harry speaks parseltongue and yelling "Let's GOOOOOO" at the rest of the dead Potters because "FUCKING FINALLY."
Tom is interested in genealogical research from an academic and a historical viewpoint but it is not one of his Special Interests so he knows just enough about it to bullshit his way through discussing it but if you actually ask him about something more than a simple punnett square he will be confused. It's Morgan who has a better understanding of how genetics works cause she's a STEM girlie, so she and her father have discussed the implications of magical traits and their genealogy extensively.
I would like to provide my husband's favorite line of "well it sounds stupid when you say it out loud," because it was very appropriate. He also appreciated it.
My pagan is showing. Yes. I know. Things were changed. Shut up and enjoy the ride. With this be on the test? Why else would I include it? Tom likes and appreciates rituals and circles and the ancient ways to practice and honor magic but he also knows that a LOT of it is FLUFF and is more interested in knowing the mechanics of what makes what do what and cut out the fluff because he's an impatient man.
Listen Tom is usually pretty straightforwardbut he can get kind of flowery when describing magical stuff and his special interests. TJ had to get it from somewhere.
I am not fucking kidding when I say I have a familyecho account that has all of this shit on it and by god was it a fucking pain in the ass I know exactly how many cousins removed Tom/Voldemort is from Sirius and from Nevile respectively.
Yes the story og the Three Brothers is different because Burke is from the 1600s so there's like 300 years worth of alterations right there I know what I changed and it was done with intent. I like folklore a lot and noticed a lot of us tends to get dumbed down to the main elements that make the story/fable flow better and get to the point faster, so I assumed Burke would know a lengthier and more convoluted version than the rest of the cast would in th 1900s.
Canon is that Tom is descended from Cadmus, and Harry is descended from Ignotus, but like, let's be honest these mother fuckers great-great-grandkids are so intermarried they're all kind of descended from all of them. I headcanon that Albus is actually descended from Antioch to make the story come full circle because in this version Antioch has kids.
Fawkes did not infact want to go down to the Chamber because he can sense all that basilisk magic and didn't want to be around it but wanted to be close enough to come if Dumbledore called.
