*sequel to A Gutter Rat’s Tale* Severus and Harry set out to discover the secrets that entwine the only items that Harry's great-grandmother left Severus. Doing so may or may not revive the Snape-Potter family lineage, but it will, very literally, drag ghosts of the past, skeletons from the closet, and counterparts who walked separate paths in life.
Chapter 19
Chapter Summary:
*sequel to A Gutter Rat's Tale* Severus and Harry set out to discover the secrets that entwine the only items that Harry's great-grandmother left Severus. Doing so may or may not revive the Snape-Potter family lineage, but it will, very literally, drag ghosts out of the past, skeletons from the closet, and counterparts who walked separate paths in life.
Posted:
03/06/2005
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88
Author's Note:
Contrary to most beliefs, I am not dead.
Harry and Tom Riddle hugged the wall close to avoid the moving wave of people. “Why’s it so crowded?” Harry asked Riddle over his shoulder. Riddle shrugged.
"This is the lunch hour,” he said. "Diagon Alley is always sort of a crush on the lunch hour just before a holiday.”
"Ah. Poor timing on our part?” Harry asked as they walked back to the Leaky Cauldron.
"I wouldn’t say that. Had you come any later, you may not have found me.”
Harry and Riddle walked in silence. The noise of other people talking, laughing, and scurrying by more than made up for their silence. It was not uncomfortable, as Harry supposed it would be. He tried to imagine how Francis, Severus, and the others would react to knowing he had found whom they had sought for so long.
The answer he got was unexpected.
"Harry!" Severus appeared out of nowhere directly in font of Harry. "What have I told you about running off?" Severus folded his hands before himself and glowered down at Harry. He floated knee-high in the air, making him all the more taller than Harry. "It’s dangerous to be roaming around when we still know nothing about-"
Severus stopped and stared beyond Harry’s shoulder to Tom Riddle.
"I had to, Uncle Severus," Harry said. "When I saw him in the crowd, I had to get his attention. So I ran after him."
Severus' only response was a wheezing gasp.
"This is who we've been seeking all this time!" Harry tried to smile at Severus. Severus wheezed again. Harry sighed and turned around to Riddle. "Sorry," he said apologetically. "He's not always like this; really."
Riddle smiled knowingly. "I understand," he said in a soothing voice. "After all, if he was killed by me, to meet me when I am not who killed him must be somewhat of a shock."
Severus wheezed again. He whirled around and disappeared into the crowd. There came gasps and cries of shock at the wave of cold that was a ghost went directly through them. Harry grinned. "Now I can tell him how embarrassed I am of his behavior!" It was not often that Harry could find something to openly criticize Severus with and not regret it later. Actually, Harry suspected that if he brought this up at a later time, he probably would regret it. He rubbed his head. "We'd better go after him before he convinces the others that I have wandered into Voldemort's sinister clutches."
Riddle gestured sweepingly for Harry to lead the way. They reached the Leaky Cauldron a few minutes later. Harry opened the door and peered around the frame for his companions. He saw them seated around a large table with a plate before each person. Severus floated in an empty chair, stark white and listless. The corner of his left eye twitched as he looked over at Riddle and Harry. Pandora's Box and the Mirror of Rebounds were both shoved under the table from the reach of anyone. Francis and Harry2 were too busy making a gigantic sub sandwich to notice Harry or Tom Riddle. Harry2 recited what they needed and handed the ingredients to Francis, who eagerly piled them on top of one half of a loaf of bread
" . . a layer of cheese, a layer of meat, a layer of lettuce, a layer of meat, a layer of tomato, a layer of cheese . . ."
Draco watched Francis and Harry2 with wide eyes as the condiments piled higher and higher.
Harry and Riddle walked over to the table to observe. " . . . slather on a thick layer of relish, and voila! The sandwich that kept me alive all the years of Mom's sporadic cooking sprees!"
Francis topped the stack of food with the top half of the loaf of bread. He eager rubbed his hands together as he looked at it. "This looks good!" He passed the plate over to Harry2, who then hacked the sandwich into four parts. He gave one to Francis, and another to Draco.
Draco eyed his quarter of the sandwich. "How am I going to fit this thing into my mouth?" he asked as he measured it with his fork; the sandwich was taller than the length of his fork. Harry2 shrugged.
"Shouldn't be a problem," he said as he squeezed his part of the sandwich into a quarter of its original height. He bit into it and mumbled around his bite. "You'f suf a big mouf an'way." Draco narrowed his eyes and viciously kicked Harry2 beneath the table.
Francis reached over for the mustard jar and noticed Harry. "Hello, Harry," he said cheerfully. He pushed the remaining quarter of the sandwich over to Harry. "This is yours. Where'd you run off to?" He pulled the mustard jar close to him and opened it
Harry wondered briefly if he should inform them of Riddle while they were eating. Riddle decided for him. He stepped around Harry and nodded politely at Harry's companions. Harry2 and Draco didn't notice. Severus' eye twitched again. Francis froze with his butter knife dipped in the mustard jar. Riddle smiled.
"It has been a while since we've last seen each other," Riddle said. The others finally looked at him. "Alive." Harry2 and Draco frowned at the ominous sound. Riddle pulled a chair from a nearby empty table over to theirs and sat down.
Francis cleared his throat. He took his butter knife out of the mustard jar and sighed as he laid it down on his plate. "You do realize that we have never exactly been on the best of terms."
Riddle shrugged. "I apologize for any discomfort I may have caused from trying to kiss Pandora while you were still alive. As a hindsight, I realize that it was tactless of me to make such a move on a married woman."
Francis blinked. "You kissed Pandora?"
Harry nudged Riddle. "This is a different reality, where different things happened."
"You kissed Pandora?" Francis twisted the napkin at his side, a look of stunned betrayal on his face.
Riddle shrugged and smiled. "Ah. So it is, so it is."
"You kissed Pandora?" The napkin tore.
Severus glared at Riddle. "You upset Francis on purpose."
Francis was as white as Severus and looked as if a large animal approximately the size of a hors) had kicked him in the stomach. His hands trembled slightly as he yanked on the napkin halves.
Riddle stood up, his hands pressed flat against the surface of the table. "My presence disturbs you," he observed. Francis continued to stare at the spot Riddle had sat. He shrugged. "If any wishes to further speak to me, I shall be at Dinsmore. If you are too upset," here he gave Francis a knowing look, "please wait until you have calmed down." He walked away from the table.
Severus poked Francis with one chilling finger. Francis tore his napkin again as he jumped out of his chair in surprise. He glared at Severus.
"He kissed Pandora," Severus said coldly. "It's not the end of the world."
"But she's my wife," Francis said in a whining voice. He suddenly looked lost, ready to cover his head and weep.
Severus frowned, made a face, and thought for a moment. He schooled his face into something that resembled sympathy. "But this is not our reality," he said. "You have to remember that what happened here clearly never took place in our reality, and visa versa. He may not have kissed Pandora in our reality."
Francis' jaw trembled. "I distinctly remember someone telling me about the price Pandora agreed to pay for the return of that someone not becoming a werewolf."
Severus was silent for only a moment. "Ah, but it was Voldemort who asked her. By that time, the man you knew as Tom Riddle had become so dark and twisted that only Pandora referred to him as Tom Riddle any more. It is quite clear that this man, this Tom Riddle, never took that path."
Francis glared mutely down at his sandwich. He sighed. "Can't think too well on an empty stomach," he decided. He reached for the mustard jar. "After this though, we will have to find him and explain things."
Harry decided it was wisest not to mention how he had already done just that in one of his dreams.
Harry was the only one without an appetite. When Harry2 greedily eyed his sandwich, Harry pushed the plate it was on to him. "Want this?" he asked. "I don't feel like anything."
"Thank you." Harry2 snatched it up, and was munching contentedly on it before Harry could change his mind.
The more he thought about not telling the others about how he already explained everything to Tom Riddle in his dream, the more Harry was sure it was a poor idea. Firstly, he reasoned, if Riddle mentioned anything, Harry would have to admit to holding back information. Both Francis and Severus would be disappointed in him. Secondly, Harry was unsure now that he truly dreamed. On one hand, he was dreaming in his body, but on the other hand, Tom Riddle firmly believed that he had not been dreaming when Harry came. Did that mean that somehow Harry solidified himself in this reality? How did he suddenly have a body if his body was back in the reality he was supposed to be in with Francis and Severus?
Draco leaned across the table and waved one hand in front of Harry's blank eyes. "He's really out of it," he said when Harry did not even blink.
"Maybe he's in shock," Francis suggested. "I, of course, would not blame him. Of all of us, Harry is the one who has been through the most with Voldemort." He shot an uncertain look over to Severus. "Minus you," he added hastily, "but then you're already dead, and I do not believe it is possible for a ghost to go into shock."
Severus smiled coldly at Francis. "There was that one time when you opened that one door in the third reality we jumped after that Amazon Ginny incident, where I was chained to the wall while-"
"Stop!" Francis' face burned a deep red as he hurriedly glanced away. "I was hoping to forget that!"
Severus shrugged. "Then again, perhaps that isn't the sort of shock you were thinking of."
Francis shook his head. "Certainly not."
Harry2 finished his sandwich. He brushed the crumbs from his shirt. "Are we going now?" He stood up and looked at the others. They blankly stared back at him. He frowned and placed his hands on his hips. "We came all this way for a good Tom Riddle. Why aren't we doing something about it?"
Draco nodded. A dangerous gleam appeared in his eyes. "We should."
Harry2 pointed a finger at him. "You are not going to kill him yet."
Draco looked aghast. "I wasn't going to do such a thing!"
"You're up to something. Whenever you get that look in your eye, it means that you are up to something."
Draco smiled sweetly at Harry2. "How astute of you to notice." He leaned forward with his elbows on the table and his chin supported on folded hands. "Tell me," he said with a husky voice, "was there anything else you noticed?" He wagged his eyebrows suggestively at Harry2.
Francis jumped to his feet. "I'm ready!" he declared hastily. He bent over and grabbed Pandora's Box from beneath the table, snapped around, and marched off to Tom the proprietor of the Leaky Cauldron. "Let's all go to Dinsmore."
Harry2's hand bunched into a fist as he frowned at Draco. "If you-"
Severus grabbed him by the back of his shirt. "Everyone follow Francis," he said as he dragged Harry2 with him. Draco stood up. He paused a moment to wink at Harry, grab the Mirror of Rebounds, and then bound after the others. They weaved a crooked path through the crowded inn, jostling against moving patrons, tripping over the extended feet of some who relaxed or lingered over their lunch.
Harry stirred out of his deep thoughts. He looked around for the others, realized they were bunching together at the fireplace, and jumped to his feet. He scrambled around other people to join his comrades. "Wait!" he said as he stopped at Francis' side. "There is something I have to say before we go to Dinsmore." He knotted his hands together and shuffled his feet as Francis centered his attention on him. "I did dream about this place before, and I did dream of meeting Tom Riddle - this good Tom Riddle. It's just that, well, I told him about us in one of the dreams."
Francis' expression remained the same; open and ready for information. Harry took a steady breath. "Remember in the second reality we jumped into, we watched that Quidditch game and I crashed into myself and we both blacked out?" Francis nodded. "Well, I dreamed about this Tom Riddle, and he said that he had so much time and I could talk myself hoarse with explaining what was going on in my life." Harry shrugged helplessly. "So I did. He doesn't know of anything that took place when we went Jumping again, because I haven't told him." He nervously chewed his bottom lip, waiting for their reaction.
Francis exchanged a quick look with Severus. "Well, Harry," he said. "Since this is a good Tom Riddle, I don't believe we have to worry about damage you may have inadvertently caused." He grinned suddenly. "Indeed, you probably saved us some time."
Harry felt tenseness from his shoulders and chest disappear. He smiled gratefully at Francis.
"Still and all," Francis patted him on the shoulder as an odd look appeared in his eyes, "I wish you had told me about this earlier. Now, follow my lead," he said as he stepped into the fireplace. He dropped a handful of Floo powder. "Dinsmore." He disappeared with a puff of smoke.
Severus floated over to the side of the fireplace and crossed his arms. He glared at the others, waiting for someone to volunteer going next.
Harry2 pushed Draco forward. Draco glowered at Harry as he took a handful of Floo powder. He followed Francis' suit. Harry stepped forward to be next. As he grabbed a handful of Floo powder, Severus' ghostly hand enclosed over his. Harry gasped as an icy chill invaded his arm and sunk to his bones.
"Harry," Severus warned him quietly, "be careful. No matter if this is a good Tom Riddle or not, you will always remain the unknown agenda to him." Severus turned his head to look at Harry2. "And that goes for you too. You are the Boys-Who-Lived, the only people to somehow survive the Killing Curse Voldemort cast."
Harry2 shrugged. "I am what I am," he said in explanation of himself. He reached for the Floo powder just as Harry released his own and said, "Dinsmore."
Harry flipped head over heels in the floo. He felt his stomach cringe and then crawl up his throat in an effort to hide from the spinning dizziness. The spinning and wayward imbalance stopped when he was spat out of the Floo network with a large scattering of ashes across a gleaming wooden floor. Draco stood before Harry, his hair gray with soot and ashes as he tried to brush his robes clean. Next to Draco on the floor was Francis, who hacked and coughed with one hand at the base of his throat.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked as he reached out to touch Francis' shoulder. Francis barely nodded in reply.
Draco answered for Francis. "He got quite a lungful of soot," he explained, "being the first one to use this fireplace in, oh, I'd suppose ten years."
"Oh." Harry stood upright and looked down at himself. He was gray with soot too. He patted the front of his robes and a cloud of soot drifted off him. He looked around at the rich wood paneling and flooring. The ceiling was made up of tiling with an intrinsic floral design, and at each corner the ceiling met the wall with a curved rose-like design as a rounded corner. Except for a small table that stood next to the fireplace, the mirror above it, and an empty shoe and coat rack against one wall, the room was empty. The fireplace itself was made up of different colored bricks, in a pattern that alternated color like the red-brown of the floor and walls, and pale ivory of the ceiling. The mantling curled under with two sets of heavy brass candlesticks on either side on its surface.
Harry2 popped out of the fireplace then. Severus materialized above their heads.
"What's wrong with Francis?" Severus asked as he looked at the coughing Francis.
"A lungful of soot," Draco said again. He reached out to thump Francis between his shoulders.
"A MESS!" A tiny voice shrieked from the side of the room. The others jumped at the sound and stared guiltily at one another. "YOUSE MADE A MESS!!" A gray little figure bolted over to their sides and began to pound angrily on the floor. "YOUSE MADE A MESS IN PINKY'S PAULOR!" The gray little figure turned out to be a very enraged house elf that wore a precarious wig of blonde corkscrew curls and the poofiest, laciest monstrosity of a pink dress Harry had ever seen. The house elf threw herself on the floor and wailed.
"Pinky." Tom Riddle stepped through a doorway across the room. "Is that any way to greet guests who come through the Floo?"
The house elf sniffed. "No, master," she said. She stood up and shook a tiny finger at the visitors. "Youse wipe your feet on carpet," she told them with all the ferociousness of Aunt Petunia when Harry had made the mistake of tracking mud into her clean house. With a sniff, Pinky magicked up on a miniature dustpan and broom, and began to sweep up the soot and ashes.
"Pinky." She turned back to Tom Riddle expectedly. "It is my fault; I gave them permission to use a Floo that has not been in use for many years."
She sniffed disapprovingly and went back to cleaning, as if her disdain was enough to assure that the Moment would Never Be Repeated. Tom Riddle waved his wand and muttered a cleaning charm. The ashes and soot disappeared from the reality jumpers' clothes. "Come with me," he said. "Pinky cares little for people who are underfoot." He turned and exited off to the left of the parlor.
"Under where?" Harry2 asked as he pointedly looked at Pinky, who only came to his knee if she stood on tiptoe. Severus grabbed him by the back of his shirt.
"Come along," Severus muttered beneath his breath as he dragged Harry2 along.
"Where do we put these?" Francis asked Tom as he pointed at Pandora's Box and then the Mirror of Rebounds. "It's not safe to carry them around everywhere, so I figure we can leave them somewhere for now."
Tom gestured to the small table next to the fireplace. "That would do," he said.
Draco and Francis placed the Mirror of Rebounds and Pandora's box on the table, and then fell in to the step with the others.
"That," said Draco to no one in particular as he looked over his shoulder at Pinky, "is one overindulged house elf."
Riddle stepped around one corner where he had been waiting and nearly walked through Severus. "Agreeably," he said to Draco. "However, Pinky was a only a wee one when she was given to my wife. Pinky was small enough to fit into my hand with nary a problem, and my wife was instantly protective of her. Wound up spoiling her rotten." He shrugged. "I hadn't the heart to correct Pinky's behavior."
Francis gnawed on his lip. Riddle looked at him with a suspicious spark of amusement in his eye. "You have something on your mind." Riddle's statement was simple, and not meant to mock anyone. It was merely a persuasion for information.
"Without being rude," said Francis as he fiddled with his goggles, "because I don't mean to pry by all means, who is your wife?"
"Was," Riddle corrected. The spark of amusement gave way to something far darker. "Pandora died twelve years ago."
Francis listlessly dropped his hand. "Oh."
Riddle turned away from him. "Francis," he said with a slight hint of wry mockery, "did you really expect I would leave Pandora, a very intelligent and, well, exceedingly rich witch as a widow after you broke your neck falling from a broom?" He tapped the side of his nose. "To my credit, I allowed for two years of mourning before I began to court her." He paused a moment. "Granted, there were others who showed less respect for a widow in mourning as I did." He smiled wickedly. "I took care of such tactlessness."
"Um." Francis considered what he had been told. "You wouldn't have anything to do with my being on that broom, would it?" he asked suspiciously. "I noticed that I always die like that in every reality where I asked after my fate. I don't know why I would fly on a broom when I can't stand heights in the very least."
Riddle looked over his shoulder. A secret smile twisted his lips. Wordlessly, he looked away and began walking forward. "Come," he said again. "We have an important discussion that I would prefer to get out of my way as quickly as possible."
As they followed Riddle, Harry found himself astonished by the trappings of Dinsmore. Both Francis and Severus had lived in Dinsmore, and seemed neither surprised nor amazed by their current surroundings. Draco looked distracted, but Harry supposed it was because Dinsmore may not have been very different from his own family home. Harry2, raised by Marcia, was simply impossible to faze. Harry did not think he had ever actually seen Harry2 show intense emotions, although Draco seemed to be skilled in aggravating him.
All the walls and floors of Dinsmore were crafted from a wood with a rich mahogany shade of color. Borders along the edge of the ceiling and the curtains that covered stained glass windows were the color of ivory with a small amount of green for edging. There were various vases filled with fresh or dried flowers on windowsills. Little shelves contained various statuettes, figurines, and sculptures of all sorts. Tapestries covered entire walls with their depicted scenes of wildlife, country, wizards and witches casting spells. Paintings were everywhere. By the time they had swept through another hallway lined with pictures inside gilded frames, Harry realized that past occupants of Dinsmore had a passion for art.
He said as much to Severus, who floated a little to the front and left of him.
Severus nodded in agreement. "Snapes cared to surround themselves with the finer arts. I suppose that if we had to have junk, because it is inevitable how old families and their houses tend to be clutterbugs, it may as well be pleasant to look at."
Draco assessed some of the tapestries with a critical eye. "Some of this ‘junk' is priceless," he said.
No one said anything after that as they continued their journey through Dinsmore to wherever Tom Riddle was taking them. Francis and Severus, being the only other people who knew their way around Dinsmore, may have known where they were going. Neither of them looked as if they found something suspecting, although it was hard to tell from the pinched look on Severus' face.
Tom Riddle finally opened one door that led to downward stairs. He held his hand aloft as he descended them, and a small flame appeared at his fingertips. The flame was just enough to cast light for them to see by without tripping and falling down the stairs. Down the stairs and through a few passageways, they entered what Harry recognized to be the small room he talked to Riddle twice before in. Across the room was an opening that led down book-covered walls.
Riddle used his flame to light a brace of candles on his desk. He transfigured a few papers into chairs for everyone to sit upon before he sat down behind his desk.
Francis looked around with a lonely light in his eyes. "The catacombs. I noticed that not a single thing has changed between this Dinsmore and the Dinsmore that I lived in." He appeared to be recalling fond memories for several moments as he examined different things before he moved and sat down across from Tom. The others followed suit.
Harry noticed how the only seat available for him was next to Draco. With a resigned sigh, he sat down in it and did his best to ignore the bright smile Draco sent him. Tom waited a moment for the reality jumpers to wiggle about in their seats until they were comfortable before speaking.
"What's in it for me?" It was a simple enough question, but a stormy look in his eye seemed that the answer of the question would determine the outcome of his decision.
Francis played about with the stem of his glasses as he looked around. "I haven't seen Dinsmore in what seems to be years." He paused a moment. "Actually, it has been years." He folded his hands in his lap. "I'll probably never see Dinsmore again. Tell me," he leaned back against his chair, "how much do you love Dinsmore?"
Riddle frowned. "Are you trying to change the subject?"
Francis shrugged. "It depends on where I am trying to take the current subject. Either way, I'm probably a dead man. Not," he hastily added before Severus could interrupt, "that I wasn't before, because I have been, mostly through falling off a broom I never knew I was stupid enough to get on, and breaking my neck like I always feared I would!" He paused for a breath of air. "The direction I'm trying to take is this: separate realities are set up like a row of dominos. When one reality topples, it brings all the others down. I haven't quite figured out the mechanics behind it, but apparently if you destroy one reality, all of the Universe is going to follow along. You are the only one who can stop yourself. Do you love Dinsmore? Do you want to see it destroyed through something you did?"
Riddle put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. His fingers laced together in a bridge and he rested his chin on the bridge. He observed Francis with thoughtful, knowing eyes. "On whose authority do you have this?"
"Two people." Francis held two fingers up and wiggled them. "One is Cousin Quigley. It's impossible to tell if he is a reliable source or not though. It's not that he has ever misled us before with lies, but he omits information that I know he has. The other is Pandora. She's the one who told us that finding you was the key to it all. I don't know why either, but you can't go wrong with her telling a person what they're supposed to do." He gestured to Riddle. "Perhaps you know why Pandora said finding you was the key to it all?"
Riddle's gaze shifted over to Harry. "What of you?" he asked softly.
Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. "Me?" He considered an answer. "I-I don't know. Pandora just said that I couldn't stop Voldemort because he and I are mirror reflections of one another." Riddle nodded his head; Harry had already told him of this. "The only one who can stop you is you."
Riddle dropped his hands and leaned back. "I want to speak with you more of this." His eyes flickered over the others. "Alone," he added darkly. Severus and Draco bristled threateningly. Francis just shrugged his shoulders and stood up.
"I wouldn't mind exploring Dinsmore some more." Francis looked over to the side. "Come on," he said. Draco and Severus glared at him. Harry2 stood up and moved to stand by his side.
Harry2 made a scooping motion with his hands. "Does anyone feel like taking Tom Riddle one-on-one?" he asked. Riddle's eyebrows rose inquiringly. "He calls himself Tom Riddle and not Voldemort. We, as in Harry Potter, do not exist in this reality. Tom Riddle's power was never disrupted. I suppose that makes him more powerful than Voldemort, or something, because he never had to recover from dying. Sort of." He squinted. "Does anyone understand what I'm trying to say here?"
"Are you saying," said Draco, "that he's strong enough to kill us all if he wanted to?"
"He's saying," said Riddle, "that I won't kill Harry while we are alone. If I meant to kill you before, then I would have already."
They looked at Harry2 with uncertainty. "Well," began Draco with uncertainty, "what if he does kill us?"
Harry2 gave Draco a mirthless, toothy grin. "Then he gets to put up with mom, and he can't kill her!"
"Nandin! Nandin!" Marcia skidded to a halt at her brother's side and nearly fell over. "Nandin! Sirius is missing! I can't fi-" She stopped as she cocked her head at the side and peered curiously at Nandin. "Nandin? What are you doing with my brownies?"
As a rule, Marcia and Nandin tried to act as typical brother and sister. Their history was a complex mish-mash of what-was and what-really-happened-before-Marcia-changed-it-all and what-have-you's. Because of their pasts, being typical brother and sister did not work. Their adopted mother had explained that siblings made fun of each other, but got away with it because they trusted one another enough to know it was merely good-natured teasing. They took their mother's words to heart.
Marcia was fairly sure that flinging one's sister's brownies at lurking Death Eaters outside the shadows of Hogwarts went beyond good-natured teasing.
"They are very useful," Nandin said solemnly. "I shall have to get the recipe from you."
Marcia squinted at him. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was mocking her, but no proof of it. But there was something she came to ask him about, something important . . .
Nandin peered into the darkness outside the window. Though the perimeters of protection around Hogwarts no longer existed, multiple charms woven into the stonewalls protected against entrance of any who had ill intent for someone within the castle. Thus far, it had proven to be effective against Voldemort's invasion.
Having two demons who were formerly professional killers also helped.
"I was going to ask you something," Marcia muttered.
"About Sirius." Nandin threw another brownie into the darkness. It hit something with a resounding thunk, followed by the sounds of a pained scream and a collapsing body.
"Yeah! That's it! I can't find him!"
Nandin ignored Marcia until she threw her arms around his waist in a desperate hug. "Please! You have a better nose than me!" He rolled his eyes and pushed her away. Her hands waved wildly around before she attached herself to his arm. "I'm worried because I went to look for Snape and then Sirius wasn't where he was supposed to be!" She remained firmly attached to Nandin's arm even when he forced his sword scabbard between her and him and tried to pry her loose. "I'll only let go unless you agree to help me!"
Nandin considered knocking Marcia over the head with one of her brownies. Marcia buried her face in the crook of his elbow.
"I'll tell Mama if you don't!"
Nandin considered that. They had been trying to avoid the family ever since Harry2 left four years ago, because the less their warlike family knew about how he and Marcia were holed up together in Hogwarts, under siege by Voldemort, the less likely the family would decide to "rescue" them. Marcia was already in enough trouble for involving her family in Harry2's third year. No one had wanted to risk Harry2's leaving to have Christmas with family, so family was given permission to come to Hogwarts for Christmas.
It was a mistake Dumbledore was not going to repeat any time soon. Marcia, her parents, and her mother's mother were the least violent, and most easy-going and mild-mannered of all. Surrounded by demons, druids, and miscellaneous creatures that could only exist in nightmares, Dumbledore believed Harry was safe (which was true) and had reluctantly allowed Harry2 and his family to go to Hogsmeade for an afternoon out. It had only taken one misconception on Rufus Runeking's part to have the most violent family members (approximately 82% of the family) destroy half of Hogsmeade before Marcia could fetch her mother to make them stop.
The Runekings and close relatives thereof thrived upon violence. If one family member was in trouble, the rest migrated to that family member's side for the chance of a fight. While it would admittedly save a lot of trouble in the grand scheme of things for family to help, Dumbledore wanted as little trouble as possible, especially now that the Wild Hunt was freed upon an admittedly sinful world.
It was only by Marcia's word that Dumbledore knew Harry2 to be safe. In order to keep the rest of the wizarding world happy, they had concocted a story about Harry2 leaving to train for a fight against Voldemort. Considering Harry2's tattoo and the power behind it, the wizarding world believed them. In the meanwhile, Marcia blackmailed Nandin into filling in for Harry in the Fight For Good. Ultimately, Nandin could honestly say he did not give a damn so long as he was fed and got to kill something regularly.
"Would you really tell?" Nandin asked as he paused in his attempt to pry Marcia free.
"Yes, I would, and you know I would!"
Nandin sighed. "Fine, fine." Marcia unattached herself. She smiled brightly at Nandin as he threw one last brownie into the darkness. Someone screamed a heartbeat after a dry crunch. "Where was the last place you saw Sirius?"
"Down in the dungeon." Marcia pointed vaguely off to the left. Nandin swept past her and made his way to the darker depths of Hogwarts. Marcia trailed behind him. Nandin personally hated the dungeons and tried to avoid them if possible. The heavy scents of Snape's various potion ingredients permeated and assailed Nandin's olfactory senses. After only a few minutes, he could feel a migraine beginning to pound at his temples. He growled deep in his throat and vowed to take his misery out on something preferably alive.
He only had four brownies left. He was going to make them count.
One scent floated freely above the others. It smelled something like his adopted mother's, a light, heady scent of phoenix plumage. Remembering Sirius' odd little pair of wings, Nandin followed the scent carefully. It led him to a door, which he readily opened.
Snape looked up from his writing. "What do you two think you are doing?" he demanded suspiciously. Nandin followed the scent up to the garbage. "There." He pointed at the garbage. Marcia ran over to it.
"Sirius?" she asked as she peered into the depths. "Why are you - AHHHH! SIRIUS!" She dived into the garbage can that was nearly as tall as she was. Her legs dangled a bit before she pulled out with a crumpled little figure. She dropped it onto the palm of her hand. Sirius groaned and managed to open one bloodshot eye. "He's been hurt!" She whipped around to face Snape. "What did you do?"
Snape gritted his teeth. "I didn't do anything," he said. Marcia thrust the creature she held out to him.
"You did too! Look at what you did!"
Snape started to shove her hand away and froze. Sirius glared up at him. Before Snape could find something suitably scathing to say, Nandin grabbed Marcia by the back of her jumper and hauled her out of the room. Snape looked up at the ceiling. "James Potter," he hissed beneath his breath, "of all the stupid things that you did while you existed here on Earth, giving that woman your brat wins the booby prize."
He resumed his sorting through papers. From across the room, a single empty jar floated off its shelf and hovered a moment in the air. It hurled across the room and bounced off Snape's head.
Tom Riddle closed his eyes and folded his hands in his lap as the others left. Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. Riddle's head tilted to the side, his eyes still closed. "What's happened since the last we met?" he asked.
Harry shrugged. "The same thing. We jumped through realities, met a lot of people who made out in different corners, forced Cousin Quigley into answering a few of our questions, which only left us with more, wound up here. As you may see, we have companions I never mentioned before. The first one is Draco. In my reality, he's a sharp pain in the you-know-where." At that, Riddle cracked one eye open with Harry as his lips twisted in amusement. Harry threw his arms wide. "It's the truth! In his reality, he's still that sharp pain. He married me - his reality's me, that is - who then killed you, which killed me, and when we came along, that reality was worse off because of a snake you transfigured into a woman."
Both of Riddle's eyes shot open. "Do you know the name of the snake?"
"Nagini." Riddle studied Harry closely. "And then the second person is Harry2, who is me, except a different me. He's a demon."
Riddle slowly sat up straight in his chair. "I think you best start from the beginning and work your way here slowly."
Harry was sure more than an hour had passed before Tom Riddle interrupted him. "Are you sure that there was a pair of hands that hovered over the scene of your Cousin Quigley and the Bloody Baron?" he asked.
Harry nodded. "Positive. While I realize that I was in a position where my senses would not at all be reliable, I am very sure that I did indeed see a pair of hands hover over the scene of Cousin Quigley and the Bloody Baron cutting the ribbons. It looked like someone was practicing divinations with a crystal ball." He squirmed uncomfortably under Riddle's all-knowing eyes.
Riddle waved his hand. "Go on," he said, sounding weary. Harry rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses for a moment before he resumed.
Riddle said nothing more until Harry finished. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and stood up. "Tell me," he said as he walked around the desk to Harry's side, "about Cousin Quigley. Why do you think he is so concerned about doing what he is doing?"
Harry honestly believed that Cousin Quigley was doing what he felt he could to make sure things turned out safe, and he said as much. "He's not doing it the right way, because that was impossible for anyone to do; but a safe way, so that the Universe lives. I don't know why he doesn't tell us. There may be other groups or parties involved, since I don't know where Pandora comes in and who's blocking her from communicating fully."
Riddle walked over to the wall. Harry watched as he reached out and ran his finger down one crease in the wall. Looking closer at the wall, Harry suddenly realized that Riddle stood before a closet that was cleverly blended into the rest of the wall. Riddle pressed one spot and there was a click. The closet door swung open silently. He reached into the dark depths and stopped, with his hand extended forward, and looked over his shoulder at Harry.
"Tell me," he said as he withdrew something from the darkness and hid it behind his back as he walked over to Harry's side again, "since Pandora seems to be very involved and very influential in what happens, what do you suppose she would do?"
Harry smiled brightly at Riddle. "I don't suppose; I know! She'd get you to help."
"Hmm." Riddle withdrew what he had behind his back and dropped it into Harry's lap. "Easily enough." He turned and walked away. "There are so many matters to arrange if I leave though."
Harry jumped to his feet and hurried to keep up with Riddle's swiftly retreating figure. He glanced down at what Riddle had given him, and stumbled to a stop in surprise. It was Pandora's cane. He laughed at the sight of the familiar curved head and dark brown wood. He had seen it propped up against a crumbling rock of hope, in the hands of Pandora herself, and had even held it himself the last time he dreamed his way into Dinsmore. "She's the key, isn't she?" he yelled.
Riddle glanced over his shoulder at Harry, his expression placid and mild, but the ocean of power within them raged within like a typhoon sweeping across an otherwise placid surface. Seeing it was enough to dry up Harry's good cheer, and the hair on the back of his neck rise on end once more.