Savior of Darkness

The Savior of Darkness

Prelude: The Angel Closes Her Eyes

~*~

There was no more transfixing sight than the tears of despair, for which one was helpless to do anything but watch. Perhaps a weaker person would have turned away, but for me it was not possible. And she cried shamelessly, streaming salty tears down her splotched face, dampening both her unbound hair and torn dress. She clawed at herself, unable to contain any instincts that overtook her, retching and heaving, screaming and whimpering. Her voice was not natural, for it had an animal's baseness, and instinct kept her pinned to the ground alternately swaying and pounding. I didn't think so much emotion was capable of being in any one person at the same time, that such an outpouring could be so heart rending and sincere without actual effort to carry on the pain, or submission into unconscious. But she submitted and rendered to none, and nature was not kind enough to give her a faint heart. So the gasping, sobbing, hopeless shrieking of a desperate soul with nothing left to cling to went on interminably, conveying more powerfully than words their message. I cry out.

She bore the wounds of love. And me? I was an empty shell. I was numb - emotionally void, as if something had wrenched from me all my desires, my longing and my hope. As if all my efforts and strife for this one event had come to an end finally, only to leave me without any other part to call myself. What I had put my soul into, what had taken from me so much more than I thought I had been able to give, now lay before me, a finished project other than my own, yet I could lay no claim to it. Therefore, I was left with nothing.

In many ways I had pitied her as much as I'd delighted in her, since she still had things for which she could lose and mourn. She could not contain that part of herself, the idealistic notion of the advantage of humanity's sorrow. She fed off of that faith, preyed on it voraciously. If nothing else, she was a creature of emotion that was uncompromising at core. The unnamed part. The disembodied voice. Now it is but a whisper. In every way that made her role stronger and more purposeful, and her sacrifice more perfect. I placed my warming hand on her stilling chest, drawing the spark of life within. As I did so, I gave her a farewell befitting her part in my legacy.

"Goodnight, Virginia."

Chapter 1: A Re-Memory

~*~

Her last breath was an exhale. It blew up in wispy, twisting tendrils that snaked in through my nostrils into my lungs, filling me with the first breath of life in fifty years. I held it there; captured it safe in my chest until it burned my insides with the fire of pressure and I thought my being would explode. It was warm and sweet and remained even after I had exhaled its cold, useless waste back down to her still form. My hand was still on her chest, but the pulsing I felt was from my trembling veins. I could feel the blood coursing through me with a new life. It pounded and made me woozy as I stood and stared in fascination at my moist palm. I hadn't walked as a sixteen year old in fifty years.

The thought made me giddy, and I would have swept the cooling Virginia up in my arms and twirled with her had I been steadier. Drawing her life had been intoxicating. I was reborn on my own terms. I turned, rocking slightly as my limbs accounted for gravity. There she laid, a suitable life-line and bearer, if a little stubborn at times. And beside her lay the diary, with my words that had fed and filled her with my life, twisting her to create my whim. And I had molded her just enough. Even at sixteen I had been a better father than my own ever could have been.

My eyes narrowed. The diary. I walked and leaned across, gingerly picking up the binding and cradling it in my arms. I smiled. Poison, like words, worked from the inside, eating outward. Hogwarts would be the next host.

Circumstance decided which step would be taken next. In the distance behind me I heard the faint hollow trippings of running steps. There was little time. I stood before the pillar, clutching the diary beneath my robes. Raising my voice, I called her forth. My pet. A low, guttural hiss was heard behind the rumbling shift of rock, followed shortly by her dark shadow. I could feel her gaze on me, could picture the glowing pools of eerie light, and no words had to be spoken.

My chest contracted, I must say. I could feel her sorrow, but knowing that her fate bound her loyalty and obedience to me. I did all that I could for her, for she had served her purpose as well as she could. I promised her retribution. For I was destined to finish Salazar's plan, but it would be alone. Her sacrifice was needed.

All that I heard was the dull smack of breaking rock, and the dust curled over my robes and shoes. The ground trembled and split as her heavy body, having rammed itself upward toward the ceiling and now came crashing down to the ground. And I heard a young voice gasp as the walls began to vibrate, a voice that I knew instinctively. A voice that chilled and enflamed me, twisting my insides as well as my face. I heard him call again, heard him running, and fought for composure. A lifetime of waiting and ...work filled the gap within me.

He looked so small. Crouching there, gathering Virginia to him. At least he noticed her now. I would have to tell him that that had been her one wish when she was alive. Well, one of the main ones. She had had many wishes that she had shared with me. She had shared them with me, because no one else would notice her. Now, the attention was meaningless, yet he continued.

I approached so quietly he didn't notice until I was all but towering over him. He was crying unabashedly. He had been crying that night long ago as well. I instinctively recoiled from him, poised to flee when he spoke. Sobbing, he choked out that hated Muggle name. He told me his name, like I didn't know it. I vaguely heard him amid choking, something about why I was here, and some reference to Virginia. I cocked my head to look at her. She looked more peaceful that she had ever been when talking to me. And I looked back at him, at the pathetic creature that had instilled me with such terror and agony. And I felt love. Love at his suffering, at his helpless rage. It fed me almost as much as Virginia's spirit, his crumbling vision I devoured like a bloodlust. And I didn't want it to end here. Maybe after all the undeserving Mudbloods were incinerated with him flicking the wand. Maybe in front of Dumbledore, that sanctimonious hypocrite who had hated me on sight and belittled my efforts because they happened to differ from his. Maybe when I had his full attention on the severity of ending his life. When the sight of that scar didn't sock my gut and drag the breath right out of me.

He hadn't said anything in awhile, and I realized that I had better speak. It was hard going, to open my mouth with my jaw so tight. My voice sounded funny in my ears, tinny and loud, and then too soft. I hadn't used it in awhile, so I suppose that was natural. "Yes, I am...Tom...Riddle."

His tears fogged his glasses. "I don't know what you're doing here, Tom, but we have to get -"

"It's all right. I took care of the ...monster." I motioned to my still pet, my greatest grandfather Salazar's gift to me.

He shook his head, fighting to calm down. "No, no, no, you don't understand, it's not the Basilisk, it's Ginny, its--" he looked at her, never letting go of her even as she became more alien. Quite the Gryffindor, I suppose you could say.

I knelt and felt for a pulse I knew was not to be found. I dropped my head, a tremble in my tone. "I'm so sorry, Harry. Virginia told me that she was coming down here, that she had found out where the ...monsterwas being kept." I looked up into his eyes, so heartbroken. "I don't know how it happened, but I somehow appeared. It was love, I think." I lowered my voice and leaned in, forcing myself not to flinch. "Virginia from what I could tell was a wonderful little girl. I grew to care for her deeply, you see." I sat back, rolling my head in wonder. "And so brave, to try and face the monster head on."

"You spoke with Ginny?" I could tell he was still wary of me. It would take more charm I could tell.

"Yes, we did. At great length. You see, I don't have much memory of my life before the diary. Of who I was, or how I came to be there. I remember faint bits, like what I told you, but that is all. For all I know, I never was a real person." I turned and reached over, drawing a caressing finger to outline the hem of Virginia's sleeve. The lie rolled off as easily as a memorized prayer. "But something tells me I was. Virginia believed it, too. She promised to help me recreate the past, but we never got to it. An amazing girl, really. She had so little, was so alone, and yet gave up everything she had for those around her."

"Ginny - Ginny felt alone?" The guilt was rising, sliding over his face like a dark shadow. I proceeded to reach out and fully cover him with the guilt of my words.

"Yes, she felt quite alone. I guess we bonded over that--neither one of us having a center. So we drew on each other, in a way. And she finally pulled me out, to finish what she started. I couldn't save her, though. But she'll live on in my memory though. And I defeated the Basilisk. It was almost like fate."

"Fate?" He was drowning but not reaching for my rafts yet. I would enjoy killing that stubborn spirit.

"I said, almost," I replied, rocking back to stand up. "Virginia meeting me - or something like that - her spirit for life and the preservation of it at all costs drawing me out. I would like to think it had a purpose." I eyed him, wrenching the knife. "I mean, I would hate to think that people would die for a cause, for loved ones, and not have it serve a purpose. Not have a meaning. For their deaths to have been in vain. Perhaps you feel differently."

He rose, and then crouched back down, not letting Virginia's head touch the cold stone. She rested there, almost asleep, with him looking down on her. Some guardian angel. Perhaps her reward could be for me to send him to her. My hand suddenly itched for its wand, and I opened my mouth as if to simply engulf him, the false hero with my hatred when a squawk was heard.

We both turned to see that undead bird of Dumbledore's flying toward us, carrying the ancient, beaten Sorting Hat in its claws. I gave a snort of laughter internally. This is what that old kook sent to fight the greatest wizard of all time? A ratty old hat and a probable distant cousin of a chicken? What, would the cranky hat insult me to death? I almost felt embarrassed for him, and the famous boy wonder.

Fawkes, that was his name. Fawkes came to rest beside Virginia. He leaned in over her, and against my will I drew in my breath along with the boy. But Fawkes did nothing, for there wasn't anything anyone could do. He turned sadly to the boy, extending a wing of compassion that the boy stroked. Then Fawkes noticed me, and he immediately jumped before the boy. It was adorable, in a useless way.

The boy just leaned down and whispered to the bird, "It's all right, Fawkes. He - tried to help." He said this carefully, looking up at my impassive face, carved like the stone upon which he stood. We sat locked like that for a moment, until the trembles in the wall became greater. Rock and smoke where the basilisk had struck herself were beginning to fall, rolling down the crevices. Fawkes, the boy and I all spun and looked up at the crumbling around us. My fists clenched. My home, my first family private spot, was caving in on itself. Salazar's plan had failed; it was easier to see it that way than the alternative. But his ideas rang true, and I would see them become a reality.

He touched me. Actually reached out, grabbed my robe, and yanked me along. My shin shivered and tightened. I never liked to be touched, especially by him. But there was no time to react to it. We ran down the hall, the tumbling stones ringing our ears and we slid on the smooth dust covering the ground. In the nearing corner we heard voices.

"Don't touch that!" I heard another young voice, followed by a swish.

A posh voice replied in utter glee. "Well, would you look at that! I must say... this reed looks much better in my hand. How did you make the attractive sparks come out of it?"

"It's not a reed. It's a wand! Now give - it - back!" I heard a lunge, and what sounded like a scuffle.

The boy next to me looked alarmed and called out, "Ron! What's going on there?"

"Oof!" The fight abruptly stopped, with Ron saying in short breaths, "Harry? How's Ginny? Ginny, are you all right?!"

That stopped him at my side, his eyes closing behind the glasses. "It was too late, Ron. I was too late."

We had reached the partial rock impasse. Half the stones of a cave-in had been removed, so a view of those on the other side was possible. There stood a foppish man whose elegant clothes were spattered in dust and tears, and whose hair was in disarray. He had a vacant look in his eyes and a childish grin on his face. He was turning the boy Ron's wand around in his manicured hand, humming to himself.

The other one was boy, about the same age as the one who stood beside me. I recognized him from Virginia's description. It must be her brother Ron. She had so many brothers. Ron, who was sweet enough to her but too insecure to have time to deal with her. The shadow of the famous Potter. He was in clothes already worn, but now they had irreparable damage.

None of that compared to look of hopeless anguish and disbelief that corroded his face.

He just kept repeating again and again, "No, no," even as the body of Virginia was shown to him. Shoving Harry aside, he knelt down beside the body, seeming unable to let it go at the same time as hesitant to touch it.

The Boy Wonder was also cradling her, and his arms were shaking with effort and anguish. "I'm so sorry, Ron. I am so, so sorry."

Ron came forward, tears streaming down his face. "Ginny - I told you, Harry. I should have gone with you to save her. You shouldn't have gone ahead. I should have been there." He reached out to touch her chilled form, closing his hand around her small one.

"It was too late, Ron. We wouldn't have made it. We were even too late to stop the Basilisk." He gestured toward me. "Tom here killed it."

"Tom?" Ron's eyes, glazed, turned to look at me.

"Tom Riddle. You know, from the diary." Boy Wonder chose his words carefully. "I don't know how, but he was released. The Basilisk was dying before him when I got there. And Ginny-" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"You, you were with her? I mean, at the, at the -" Ron couldn't finish either. Virginia would have liked to know exactly how much he cared. Though whether he had wanted to be there to save her or to alleviate his own guilt I questioned.

I stepped forward. "I was with her, Ron. At the end. She went quickly, from what I could see. I was a little taken with the Basilisk." I hated to give him the comfort of that lie. "But she was truly remarkable, from what I knew of her. And what she did." She deserved that dignity. And the retribution of seeing the weight it thrust onto her family. He probably didn't even know she had it in her.

We stood like that, a triangle around her. Ron had possessively edged Harry out of Ginny's immediate embrace, and Harry let him. Finally the fop, Lockhart, broke the silence with a squeal. "Well! I do say, that is most unfortunate. I think I am grieving as well. Did I know her?"

We all turned to him. He stood there, looking surprised at our disgust. Ron was the only one who spoke. "I hate you." The tone was both deadened and threatening.

Lockhart looked insulted. "Well, there is certainly no call for that, young man. I don't recall doing anything to you. Not that I recall much of anything."

Ron twisted out of the grip Boy Wonder tried to lock him in with one hand. He approached Lockhart, practically spitting. "No, you don't remember anything, because you tried to erase our memories, and it backfired on you."

"Well, I certainly don't remember doing that," Lockhart sniffed. "Are you quite sure you've got it right there?"

"Oh, I am quite sure there," Ron said. I thought he would strike Lockhart right then and there, had the ceiling not begin collapsing at an increased rate. I fell over, and Boy Wonder stumbled, desperately trying to prevent Virginia from hitting the ground. I instinctively reached out to her, not trusting him with her body, but he had her shielded.

Ron had fallen too, and now bore a bloody head wound. "What are we going to do, Harry?" he cried.

Harry shook his head in helpless despair. Fawkes hopped impatiently on his shoulder, tugging him upward. My eyes widened, for I remembered Dumbly-Do-Right saying long ago that phoenixes could carry a tremendous amount of weight. But of course, I couldn't say that I remembered that. Instead I gritted my teeth and offered, "I think the bird is trying to tell you something---Harry."

Harry's eyes then widened, and he grasped Virginia tighter while calling to Ron, "It's Fawkes! He can carry us out!"

"All of us?" Lockhart sounded dubious. "Are you sure that's quite safe?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "You stay here then."

Boy Wonder waved Lockhart over. "Unless you have a better idea, I think we should trust Fawkes."

Ron came over and gently placed his hands on Virginia, grasping her and Boy Wonder. I turned and said, "Harry, you hold Virginia then, and Fawkes can hold your shoulder. Ron, then you hold. I'll hang onto you, and then Lockhart-"

"Can go last so he'll be the one to drop if it's too heavy?" Ron muttered thickly. I almost smiled. He had an appealingly scathing humor when he was distraught.

"Hang on," Lockhart began to protest, but there wasn't enough time for him to get it all out. We clung to each other, and their putrid stenches made me wish to vomit.

Fawkes spread his wings, and took off without so much as a strain or tremor. ~Phoenixes really were amazing creatures ~ I mused as we rose above the dust and decay. It didn't seem possible for the bird to hold such a burden without a flinch. Not that this one must have been particularly bright, to have stayed with Albus for so long.

I continued to hear the ruin below. I closed my eyes, choosing not to look down at the crumbling waste that had been my sanctuary at Hogwarts. I would bring it back, I promised my ancestor and myself. Only this time, it would be above ground. Not in hiding and tunneled below, but a majestic sight that all would see and not be able to touch.

It didn't take long, considering how deep the cavern really was. Before I knew it, we were up and back in that girl's lavatory. I scanned it in wonder. It had the same dripping faucets, the same tiled floor. There was that small crack near the base of the third stall. I smiled in sad remembrance that quickly fled for fear of being caught.

I stood and straightened, still a bit unsure of my footing. On the ground now, Ron was cradling his sister. Everyone else backed off and gave him space.

"Ron, I'll go and, and get McGonagall," Harry sounded uncertain, not sure how to act now that his bravery had not been enough. It must run in the family. It was easier to call him by his given name when he was like that. He began to back away, when a voice froze us all.

"That won't be necessary." It was gravelly and low, but completely unmistakable. It froze me from my heart to my extremities, boiling my blood so that my veins throbbed enough to pound. A terror and hatred gripped me, as well as a steeling glow of determination. He would not ruin me a second time. Neither of them would. I unclenched my hands in front of me, and turned, with my eyes never casting downward. And I met him head on. The Headmaster.

Dumbledore stood there before me. He hardly looked surprised. But then, he had crafted the same gift I had. To seem that he expected everything that came. I knew, inside, that he felt the same way towards me as I did to him. I knew him oh so well. I had never bought any of that patience he had tried to show towards me from time to time, seeing it for what it was. A power hold over me, an attempt to cast me down below him because I could face and do what he would not. Could not.

And now here he was again. Same blue robes, same glasses, and same frizzy long white hair. Only a lot older, it seemed. Older, and more cautious in stance. Yet with a grounded bearing and firmness of being that he had used long ago. That had only solidified over the years. Part of me wanted to break into a wide smile and spin for him on display, to see me again as I was. To show him I'd outsmarted him all those years ago, and preserved a time that he no doubt that was long past due to his superiority.

Instead, I just stood there, making my eyes as impassive as the blue I stared into. His mouth worked before the words came out. "Tom."

~In the flesh ~ I thought glibly.

He took a step toward me. "Tom... It cannot be -" He stood right in front of me now, and didn't shift his gaze as Harry stumbled to explain.

"You see, Professor, I met him down in the chamber. He had just defeated the Basilisk--"

"Is that so?" Dumbledore murmured. I still remained impassive.

Harry, a bit confused, answered. "Yes, sir. At least that's what he said. I saw it die before him. He says that Ginny drew him out of a diary. He was concerned for her, as we were. Unfortunately--" Harry stopped and turned back to Ron and Virginia.

Dumbledore's eyes finally left me, and settled on the brother and sister. "Oh, dear," was all he said before kneeling creakily down beside Ron. Tenderly, he encased both Ron's and Virginia's hands in his own. "Ron, I am so very sorry for your loss. I will do everything possible for you, and your family."

Ron was almost empty of tears and voice, but managed, "She tried to take on the Basilisk herself, Sir. She didn't come to anyone, she just, just -"

"But that's not entirely true, is it now?" Dumbledore turned back to face me, his eyes searching. "She told you, Tom, then, did she? What exactly happened?"

I was expecting this. Taking a deep breath, I looked him in the eye and answered in a truthful voice, "I don't really know Sir, beyond what Harry here told you. I spoke with her, in her diary. We became friends. I don't remember much about my past, you see." At that he tilted his head back and sucked in air, which I forced myself not to notice. I plunged onward. "I know I know you, but my memory of even that is blurry at best. Virginia was going to help me, you see. She was a sweet little girl, and I came to care for her. She told me, through the diary, that she was going to fight the Basilisk. She wouldn't tell me why, or how she came to this knowledge of where it was. She took the diary along, to keep track of her steps so someone later could follow, if she didn't come back. She left me at the entrance. She didn't even want to risk hurting a diary by taking it along. But somehow, I heard her calling for me."

At that, Ron gave a stir. I knew that must have smarted, thinking she called for me and not him. Continuing, I said, "And somehow, I became alive. It happened slowly, but I followed the tunnel into the chamber as soon as I could. There I found the Basilisk." I placed a tremble into my voice. "I don't know how it happened, but I wished the creature ill, that it would collapse under the weight of the rocks above, and it - it just happened, Sir." I dropped my eyes momentarily, closing them for effect. "Then I turned to Virginia, but she wasn't moving at all. And then," I turned and pointed, "He showed up. Harry. He wrote to me as well, and I told him everything I remembered. I - I think there must have been another chamber, because I remember casting out another monster that was hurting the school before."

Dumbledore rose, not releasing his hold on Ron. It now rested on Ron's shaking back. "There is much here that needs to be discussed. First of all, I need to summon the other teachers-"

"Excellent idea!" The bombast interruption by Lockhart surprised us all, for I know I had forgotten the vapid presence. But there he was, twirling Ron's wand and striding to the door. "Let me lead the way, I feel that I should be in charge. Only," He paused and turned to face Dumbledore. "Only, where am I going again? Do I know the way?"

Dumbledore's eyes showed a little puzzlement. "Gilderoy?" he spoke questioningly, turning to Harry to explain.

"When we found out about Ginny, Sir, we went to Lockhart for help. But he's a fake, you see." The anger was evident, and before Lockhart could protest Harry rushed on. "He never did anything brave, and he was going to run out. He tried to take our memories, twice. We forced him to come with us. And the second time he tried to take our memories, he had Ron's wand, and it backfired on him."

Dumbledore looked between the puffing Lockhart and Ron's nodded approval of Harry's description. "That's what he did, Sir," Ron added. "With the Obliviate Spell."

Dumbledore nodded as Lockhart said, "Ah, there we go! That's a spell. Obliviate!" He cried that out before anyone could stop him, watching the sparks fly out of the tip of the wand this time and hit me square in the chest. I felt myself fly backward, my vision darkening from the blow.

...