The Fire You Touch

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Chapter 31: Epiphany

"So, you also think the girl who was killed fifty years agowas Moaning Myrtle?" Aeryn muttered to Harry at breakfast the next day.

"Definitely," Harry whispered back, passing her thebacon. "It has to be herÂ…thereÂ’s no other explanation."

"All those times we were in that bathroom, and she was justthree toilets away," said Ron bitterly, "and we couldÂ’v! e askedher, and nowÂ…"

They walked to Transfigurations class somberly, musing silentlyto themselves over what to do next. Escaping the ever-present net of teachers tosneak into a girlsÂ’ bathroom would be difficult even for Aeryn, but for theboys it would be nearly impossible, especially since it was the girlsÂ’bathroom right next to the scene of the first attack.

But something happened in their first lesson, Transfiguration,that drove the Chamber of Secrets out of their minds for the first time inweeks. Ten minutes into the class, Professor McGonagall told them that theirexams would start on the first of June, one week from today.

"Exams?"

howled Seamus Finnigan. "WeÂ’restill getting exams?"

There was a loud bang behind Aeryn as Neville LongbottomÂ’swand slipped, vanishing one of the legs on his desk. Professor McGonagallrestored it with a wave of her own wand, and turned, frowning, to Seamus.

"The whole point of keeping the school open at this time isfor you to receive your education," she said sternly. "The exams willtherefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all studying hard."

There was a great deal of mutinous muttering around the room,which made Professor McGonagall scowl even more darkly.

"Professor DumbledoreÂ’s instructions were to keep theschool running as normally as possible," she said. "And that, I needhardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."

Aeryn stared down at the pair of white rabbits she was supposedto be turning into slippers. What had she learned so far this year? Nothing thatwould be remotely useful for exams, unless Snape decided to have the secondyears prepare the antidote for the BerserkerÂ’s Mead for their final exam, orProfessor Flitwick tested them on turning invisible. And, of course, for therest of what she had learned this yearÂ…she pinched her l! ips tightlytogether. As far as she was concerned, the memories of the past year could verywell bury themselves deep in the recesses of her subconscious, never again tosee the light of day.

Harry and Ron looked as though theyÂ’d just been told they hadto go and live in the Forbidden Forest.

"Can you imagine me taking exams with this?" he askedHarry, holding up his wand, which had just started whistling loudly.

* * *

Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall madeanother announcement at breakfast.

"I have good news," she said, and the Great Hall,instead of falling silent, erupted.

"DumbledoreÂ’s coming back!" several people shoutedjoyfully.

"YouÂ’ve caught the Heir of Slytherin!" squealed agirl at the Ravenclaw table.

"Quidditch matches are back on!" roared Woodexcitedly.

When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said,"Professor Sprou! t has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready forcutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have beenPetrified. I need hardly remindes andstanding guard all nightÂ…."

And preparing beakers of the BerserkerÂ’s MeadÂ…

but sheinstantly saw what Harry was trying to do, and she merely plastered a pleasantsmile on her face.

"That’s right," Ron chipped in, catching on."Why don’t you leave us here, sir, we’ve only got one more corridor togo–"

"You know, Weasley, I think I will," said Lockhart."I really should go and prepare my next class." He broke away from theclump of Gryffindors, but before Ron, Harry, and Aeryn could dash away, theDefense Against the Dark Arts professor snapped his fingers and turned back tothem, his handsome face slightly less strained.

"By the way," he said in a warm voice, "I’mvery relieved, of course, that the ! Mandrakes are ready–I know you’ve beenquite concerned about Miss Granger. Of course, words cannot express my sympathy–itmust have been horrible for you, truly horrible, these past few weeks, wonderingif she was ever going to get restored." He smiled benignly and spread hishands before him. "But, as words are my forte, please accept my humble,clumsy, and belated condolences in the spirit which they are given."

He gave a brief nod and hurried off down the hall.

"Prepare his class," Ron sneered after him. "Goneto curl his hair, more like."

"But that was nice of him, to say that aboutHermione," Harry said as they let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead ofthem.

But Aeryn did not speak. She watched the multicolored form ofthe Defense Against the Dark Arts professor slip away down the turns of thecorridors and was suddenly frozen with shock, for she finally realized withstartling clarity why Riddle’s diary had se! emed so familiar when shehad first seen Harry holding it–

–because she had seen it before, five months earlier,lying amidst the scattered papers and quills of Lockhart’s desk, the diary shehad asked about, which she had even flipped through, which he had passedoff as a gift from Draco Malfoy…

He had it,

she thought, too stunned to move. Lockhart hadRiddleÂ’s diary.

And then, an even more serious thought:

Lockhart knew about the Chamber of Secrets.

She was only vaguely aware as the boys began to bolt down theempty hallway, then stopped and stared at her in disbelief.

"Aeryn, cÂ’mon," Ron hissed, poking her in theshoulder. "This is our chance."

The blood began to course through her veins again, and Aerynviolently shook her head. She had to know. She had to find out.She took a step away from the boys, her hand instinctively flying to the pocket!where she hid RiddleÂ’s diary. "You go," she croaked, her voice rustywith alarm. "Without me. Now."

"What?" Harry stared at her as if she had just toldthem to kiss Lockhart’s feet. He flung a hand down the hallway. "Aeryn,what is up with you?" he cried. "Every time we’ve got a chance tofigure this out, you–"

"Go,"

Aeryn yelled fiercely, backing away fromthem. Her breathing was coming quickly in her chest, and she had to clench herteeth together to keep herself from trembling. "I swear to you," shemurmured, "what IÂ’m doing is just as important to the mystery ofthe Chamber, but I canÂ’t tell you about it right now."

Confusion twisted Ron’s face. "But what–" he beganto protest.

Aeryn cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand. "Go, beforea teacher comes!" she snarled, the viciousness in her voice matchingProfessor SnapeÂ’s most cutting tones.

"All right, fine," Ron mutt! ered, throwing his handsup in disgust and stalking away down the hallway. Harry hesitated only a moment,staring at Aeryn with a betrayed light in his bottle-green eyes that cut her tothe quick. Then he too turned and hurried towards MyrtleÂ’s bathroom.

Aeryn wasted no time. Hampered only slightly by the guiltwracking her stomach, she dashed along the now-deserted hallway, casting hermind hurriedly before her to warn of any oncoming teachers or ghosts. Someplacewhere she could hide, someplace quiet and far-removed from people, where shecould write in the diary–the first floor was out of the question, as was thesecond, so she ran further up the marble staircase, panting only slightly as shelanded upon the third floor.

Here there was quiet–only the soft murmur from the fewoccupied chambers of the sixth and seventh years and the scritchings of mice inthe corners. Aeryn flew down the twists and turns of the deserted hallways,feeling the mi! nd-presence of the students growing dimmer and dimmer. At last,she turned a corner into a dusty hallway, where it looked as if no one had trodfor years. She skidded to a halt in front of the first classroom. The door,rusty with age, had to be helped open with telekinesis, and Aeryn threw herselfinto the room, slamming the oaken door shut behind her.

Aeryn tossed her bag onto the thick dust lining the teacherÂ’sdesk, her eyes skidding wonderingly about her surroundings. The walls werecurtained with cobwebs, eerily reminding Aeryn of Miss HavishamÂ’s house in GreatExpectations. But instead of being laced with fly carcasses and desiccatedarachnids, there gleamed in the pale-white silk vibrant colors: scarlet, gold,sapphire, emerald, clinging to the webs like jewels in a setting. Aeryn brusheda hand before her to clear a path, and the webstuff did not tear, but stretchedlike elastic bands.

She would have gladly wandered in the room for ho! urs, had notshe felt the urgent pressing of time. Giving one last swipe at the curtainingcobwebs, she brushed the thick dust from the teacherÂ’s chair and sat down atthe desk. She pulled the diary from her pocket and grabbed a quill from her bag.

January 1

stared bleakly up at her as she flipped open thefront of the little black book. Aeryn squared her shoulders and closed her eyesmomentarily, drawing a deep breath to steel her nerves. Then she opened hereyes, and quickly wrote in a flowing, clear hand across the page:

Tom, talk to me.

Her words gleamed brightly, and then absorbed into the whitepage. She waited, but no response came oozing from the diary. Her lips pinchedtogether in anger. Damnit, Tom, talk to me, I need to speak with you! shewrote, the nib of her pen digging deeply into the page.

Ink rose from the page, zipping across the pale surface like atongue of flame. "What if I donÂ’t feel like tal! king?" Hiswords dripped with bruised pride. "Unlike you, I canÂ’t very well slammy diary shut and run away when I donÂ’t wish to answer."

DonÂ’t be petty, Tom, she wrote sharply.

"Me, Tom, petty?"

There was amusement now, coldand hard like tempered steel. "Would that or would that not make me aheartbreaker, my American girl?"

Ha ha, Tom,

Aeryn wrote bitterly. Very funny.

Something akin to a sigh colored TomÂ’s words as they spilledacross the page. "Oh, Aeryn, your problem is you need to get more funout of life."

I know about Gilderoy Lockhart, Tom. She scratched the wordssharply, as if she was carving them into stone rather than merely writing them. Iknow that he had your diary, before the Chamber of Secrets was reopened, beforethis whole mess started.

A faint wave of shock rippled through the diary. "Didhe, now? How intriguing," Tom said slyly, a sinuous ! thread oflaughter lacing his words. "Gilroy Lothert, you say? The name soundsfamiliarÂ…"

Anger caught the breath in her throat. DonÂ’t play gameswith me, Tom! she snapped.

"DonÂ’t push me, Aeryn,"

Tom snapped back, andhis anger surged through her fingertips. "YouÂ’re in no position to bemaking demands."

His words were sucked back into the diary, leaving nothing but ablank whiteness.

Tom?

He did not reply.

Aeryn gritted her teeth. If only time was not so pressingÂ…butit was, and so she dipped her pen in the ink and wrote, trying to ease thetension from her hand so her words would not be quite so strained.

All right, yes, IÂ’m sorry. Now please, tell me about Lockhart.Please.

"No."

His reply was instantaneous.

PLEASE,

she begged, desperation making her handwriting hugeand sloppy.

Through her hand resting on the diaryÂ’s b! lank pages, Aerynfelt a stirring of emotion. "All right, Aeryn," Tom wrote backfinally, but his words were suddenly clinical, businesslike. "I will, onthe condition that you finish telling me the story about the night your parentswere killed."

Her hand faltered over the page. Why? she asked, herheart beginning to thump loudly.

"Why not, my dear? Who knows, I might be pacified and tellyou what you need to know."

A toying edge crept into his sinuous words."YouÂ’ll catch more flies with honey than you would with vinegar."

I donÂ’t have time for this,

Aeryn wrote frantically,choking back the hysteria rising in her throat. I’m supposed to be in classright now, if I don’t show up they’ll come looking for me–

Ink flowed from the diary beneath her fingers and across thepage, cutting off her words. "But we donÂ’t measure time the same way,do we, Aeryn? This is all the t! ime youÂ’ll ever have."

Aeryn slumped back against the chair. Her eyes glazed to thejeweled cobwebs floating before her eyes. So lovely and fragile, yet with theirown resilient strengthÂ…she couldnÂ’t tell him, she would not putherself through that agony again, to seeÂ…but then into her minds eye floatedthe Petrified images of Nearly Headless Nick, and Colin, and Justin, and HermioneÂ….

She drew a deep breath and bent her head over the diary.

"Consider this the last dance, Mary Jane,"

Riddlewrote, his words gleaming wetly on the page. "You were fifteen yearsold, and two very powerful mutants killed your mother before your eyes. Yourfather, a wizard, was able to get your hands free. And?"

–The woman, the illusionist, buried her hands in Aeryn’shair and yanked her head backwards, exposing her throat, and rage began to boilinside of Aeryn, burying her fear–

One muta! ntÂ…tried to slit my throat.

Her handwriting wasspindly and awkward, her fingers suddenly clumsy. I pulled my hand from theropesÂ…and grabbed hold of her armÂ…

"And what did you do?"

IÂ…

–she clenched her teeth and pulled as hard as shecould, with her mind, and the woman shrieked and her knees buckled beneath heras her powers suddenly flowed into Aeryn–

Â…my touchÂ…I was able to absorb her powers, even her lifeforceÂ…

"But that wasnÂ’t all, was it, Aeryn? There was still theother mutant."

–The man turned and saw them. His eyes widened, and, with acurse, he rushed over and pressed his hand to Aeryn’s face. But she was readyfor him as well–

The telepath. He came over, tried toÂ…scramble my brainsÂ…butonce he touched me, IÂ…

Her breath was ragged in her throat, and she had toswallow several times before she could shakily ! write the wordsÂ…absorbedhis powers, too.

"Did it kill them?"

Yes.

She could see the two mutants, drained of their life,lying at her feet. My mother was dead, no saving herÂ…but my father wasstill aliveÂ…Aeryn could feel the tears welling up behind her eyes, and shebit her lip, trying to hold them back. He was dying, even I could see that,but he saidÂ…he told meÂ…

–He coughed, and blood stained his lips–

"If you couldnÂ’t be a wizard, IÂ’m glad that youÂ’re amutant."

One lone tear trickled from the corner of her eye. And thenÂ…

Her pen faltered, and she put a hand to her mouth.

"Yes?"

Riddle said. "And then what,Aeryn?"

She had to finish. Gathering her strength about her, shecontinued to write, the scratching of her pen almost deafening in the stillroom. He wanted me toÂ…to take his powerÂ…so I could use it, so I! couldcome to England, where he was born andÂ…find others like him.

"And did you do as he asked?"

Yes.

–Aeryn’s lips quivered, ready to refuse him, but she couldn’t."I love you, Daddy," she said softly, and bowed her head–

I started toÂ…absorb his magicÂ…but as I did, heÂ…

–He groaned, and his eyes rolled back in his head, and shescreamed his name but it was no use–

"He died,"

Riddle finished for her gently.

Yes.

For an instant, her knees were wet with her motherÂ’s blood asshe knelt beside the body of her fatherÂ…Aeryn brought a hand to her face andquickly wiped away the tears staining her cheeks. But she was not quick enough.One lone tear, dripped from her cheek and splattered against the white page ofthe diary, where it was sucked up just as the ink had been.

There was a long pause.

Finally, words came rising up from! the depths of the page. "Thankyou for sharing that with me, Aeryn." TomÂ’s voice was soothing, likegentle waves against the shore. "You donÂ’t know how much I appreciateit."

Please, Tom. Aeryn forced herself to pull her mind away fromthe past, to think instead about the task at hand. She sniffed and dipped herpen again in the ink, not caring at the pleading, desperate tone of her words. Tellme about Lockhart. What does he have to do with the Chamber of Secrets?

A flow of raw emotion swelled from the diary, and Aeryn jerkedher hand away with a cry. "Lockhart?" Tom wrote, and she couldalmost taste his sneer. "That bumbling, pretentious, egotistical excusefor a wizard?" A laugh, or what would have been a laugh, tinged hisnext words. "The only chamber heÂ’s interested in is one with you lyingatop a vibrating bed."

Aeryn stared down at the pages in disbelief.

"On the other hand,"

! he wrote slyly,"Severus Snape would be a completely believable candidate for the Heir ofSlytherin. I am aware that you and he have anÂ…understanding."

Horror lanced through Aeryn’s body. How do you–

"Honestly, Aeryn, do you think a wizard as patheticallyinept as Lockhart capable of formulating the delicate subtleties required forthe use of the BerserkerÂ’s Mead?" There was triumph in his words now,a condescending triumph that froze her to her seat. "Did you neverwonder where he might have received the information to make such a poison?"

I–

"Of course, our relationship was strictly quid pro quo–Inever would have put up with that loathsome bore otherwise. Vain, althoughexceedingly intelligent in some respects, and always, always talking abouthimself! Me this, me that…it was extremely tiresome."

Aeryn sank back against her chair. This couldn’t be happening,it could! n’t–

"Unless, of course, he was writing about you,"

Riddlesaid. "He certainly has a flair for the artistic–the Marquis de Sadehimself would have blushed at some of the things our Gilderoy described–"

With trembling fingers, Aeryn slammed the cover of the diaryshut, blocking out his awful words. The chair clattered back as she leapt to herfeet, blood thundering in her ears as she leapt towards the door–she had toget out of here, find McGonagall, find someone, let them know about–

Her movements halted as if she had suddenly become tangled in ahuge, invisible net. Without warning, a crushing presence flooded her mind, andAeryn was abruptly unable to move. Her eyes widened and she struggled to move,to free herself–but her muscles had turned to stone and no matter how hard shepushed, they wouldn’t give–

*However, although he was accommodating, Lockhart was never whatI wo! uld call essential. Which is where you come in, my dear.*

If Aeryn could have screamed, she would have. A high-pitchedvoice boomed sonorously inside her head, smothering her ability to think, tostruggle, to–

*What a veritable Gryffindor you make, sweet Aeryn,*

thevoice whispered, and in its clear tones Aeryn could feel joy, an evil,victorious joy. *So unwilling to disclose your past, but yet so desirous toaid your friendsÂ….*

Terror brought her strength. With a tremendous effort, Aerynwrenched her head around and looked towards the desk. What she saw made thebreath stop in her throat. The little black diary was glowing, and as shewatched, the cover slowly flipped open to the first page.

*It would have been in your best interest not to pour so much ofyourself into me,*

the voice said in a chiding manner, and a chilling laughechoed inside Aeryn’s head. *But then again, I have always found G!ryffindors to be the easiest of the four Houses to manipulate–especially whenpresented with the correct incentives.*

The glow brightened to an almost unbearable intensity, but Aerynwas unable to tear her eyes away. Just when she thought she might go blind, thelight coalesced into a tall column, shooting out from the heart of the diary.The column began to darken, to mould into a semblance of a shape, and Aeryncould see a mop of jet-black hair, a thin, smiling face, and the cold, piercingeyes of a serpentÂ….

"And mutants, of course, even more so," whispered TomRiddle.

He stretched out a hand towards her face. Aeryn writhed againsther invisible bonds, trying to free herself, trying to free her mind to strikeback at the glowing shape, but his hand fell against her skin and suddenly allwent black, and Aeryn knew no more.