Chapter Forty Four
January 8th, 1947
Cerys sighed, massaging her temples gently as she shifted in the velvet green couch. The rest of the knights had arrived, twiddling their thumbs or whistling as they waited for Tom. It was as awkward as ever between the group, the boys frequently glancing between Cerys, Lestrange and Rosier. Speaking of which, Cerys sent a sharp glare Malfoy's way. Avery nudged him, snickering something along the lines of 'the great Malfoy scared of a girl?' in his ear when he quickly looked away. Abraxas scoffed.
Moments later, Tom trudged in, his robes brushing against the floor behind him. He sat in his usual chair, Nagini creeping out of a corner somewhere to greet her master. Cerys gazed at the snake intently, fingers gently scratching the velvet arm rest. She had been thinking quite a bit over the past days as she avoided Tom, figuring it would be better seeing as she couldn't seem to think properly with the boy around. She tried coming up with a plan, something that could, at least for now, divert Tom's thoughts elsewhere from his horcruxes. Though, nothing came to mind.
Now as she looked at Nagini, she was reminded of the Basalisk that still slithering underneath their feet. She knew Tom would not use the Basalisk now, not after almost having the school closed. If he used the oversized snake now, there was no doubt the students would be flood out the next day.
"My lord, how has your plan progressed?" Ambrose Nott asked, gazing at Tom in curiosity and enthusiasm.
Riddle sent him an appreciative look. "I need to know where Slytherin's locket is, but currently, all I know is that it may be in London." Tom said.
Dolohov's eyebrows furrowed. "Where did you learn that, my lord?"
"That is irrelevant." Tom said.
"When do you wish to create your next hire us, my lord?" Avery questioned.
"I wish to create it as soon as possible."
"Why is that?" Cerys asked, catching Tom by surprise. It wasn't like her to take interest in his plans.
"The sooner it is done, the sooner I can bring future plans in action."
"So, any future plans are dependent on this one?" Tom nodded. "You think your future plans will bring death upon you?"
It wasn't a question, a statement rather, but Tom still corrected her. "They won't bring death upon me when I've prepared for it." And with that she quieted down, her eyes fixated on the arm rest for the rest of the conversation. "Anyways, I've decided that it would be best to think of more... available valuables that will come to my use."
Cerys bit her lip as her eyes flickered to Nagini, and then Tom's ring. She didn't doubt he had already thought of the Deathly Hallow, so it would be better to put her current focus of preventing Nagini from carrying the dark wizard's soul.
"And have you thought of anything yet?" Questioned Abraxas, his eyes suddenly lighting up. "Because if not, you needn't look far, my lord. You know well of my family's collection—."
"He doesn't need your peacocks, Malfoy." Avery chuckled, causing the group to burst out laughing. Even Rosier's lips quirked up.
Tom let out a low chuckle. "Your offer is very honourable, Abraxas. I assure you, I've already something in mind." He lifted his hand, the metal band around his finger gleaming.
Abraxas' eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at it in awe. "What is that symbol?" He asked.
"I've never seen it before—." Cerys suddenly tensed. The Deathly Hallows. The ring was how Tom found out and— The Elder wand. The colour drained from her face when she realized who had it in this very time. "Grahamm?" Cerys glanced at Tom. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Cerys just barely saw Dolohov's eyes narrow in suspicion. "I'm fine." She said, sitting up straighter in her seat.
His eyes lingered on her face for a moment before returning to the group. "As I was saying, I've never seen it until I found the ring. Though, I plan to make it a horcrux. It'll take a bit of time, but I'm sure we'll be able to do it."
"Have you figured out what else you'll make a horcrux?" Avery said.
"Not yet, I've still to decide how many I'd like to make."
Cerys shook her head. "Are two not enough?"
"I want to be properly prepared." Tom said. "Speaking of which, Dolohov. The book that you found Slytherin's locket, was there any other useful information."
Antonin nodded before his eyes lit up. "There was something about heirlooms belonging to the other founders, but there was no detail. I could research more on them if you'd like." Why did Dolohov have to be so involved in Tom's plan? Cerys thought as she shook her head.
"Yes, that would be very appreciated, Antonin. Now, you are all dismissed." The seven boys, including Tom, stood from their seats, Cerys following suit but staying put as they all made for the door. Noticing that a girl was missing from the group, Tom turned just as he reached the door, his questioning gaze meeting Cerys' weary one. "Yes?"
She slowly approached him. "How do you plan to make this work? The heirlooms, Tom? Seriously? They'll be impossible to find."
Tom chuckled. "I won't find them. They'll come to me, just like yours came to me." He said with a dark undertone lacing his words.
Cerys shook her head, disappointment shining in her eyes. "This isn't a good idea, Tom. This is dark magic, and everyone will have to suffer the consequences." And with those words, she walked past him and into the dark hallway.
✧
January 8th, 1947
"It's been a while, no?" Helena smiled warmly as Cerys took the last step up to the astronomy tower.
"Yes, it has been." She breathed out. "I've been looking for you since I got back. I didn't see you anywhere."
"I assumed that you might need time to yourself after your holiday." Helena said, floating behind Cerys as she made her way to the railing.
Cerys huffed. "I need anything but time alone. Too much has happened over the holidays."
"I'm all ears." Ravenclaw said, curiosity evident in her eyes. And so, Cerys began her chaotic story. Starting from when she got to Little Hangelton, and then how she had managed to, surprisingly, stop Tom from killing his father and uncle. She continued on to her turning and then the party. Helena looked nowhere near as shocked as Cerys had imagined, and the witch felt a little disappointed when she failed to pull a reaction out of the ghost, who smiled wryly when she noticed. "Dear, when you've been killed by a man who admired you and ended up back in the same place you ran away from as a ghost, where you also meet a girl from the not so same future, not many things surprise you in the afterlife."
Cerys then continued to explain the last week, narrowing her eyes when she saw the amusement in Helena's expression. "This is not funny."
"Oh, do not take the offence. I just find the whole situation rather amusing. Riddle seems very confused because of you." Cerys cocked an eyebrow in question, silently asking the woman to elaborate. "He's confused because he's second guessing himself. He doesn't know what's happening. If you hadn't gone with him, do you think there would be anything to stop him from killing his father?"
Cerys shook her head slowly. "But he didn't do it for me. I—I challenged him, and that's what stopped him."
"He still realizes you are doing something, and he doesn't understand why it's influencing him. When you became ill, why did he pause your travel? Why not carry on until you got to your friend's house?"
"He didn't want to deal with me getting sicker." She forced the words out of her mouth as though a bitter lie.
"That's a possibility."
"And you don't believe that."
"No." Helena chuckled. "I don't at all."
Cerys sighed, shaking her head. "He's been conceived under the effects of a love potion." She said, sounding annoying to herself now that she had probably said this a hundred times. "He can not feel anything."
"But he does." Helena said softly. "He feels enough to doubt himself with just a few of your words."
The witch placed her head in her hands. "But how? There is nothing to explain how."
"You're scared as well, aren't you?"
"Of what?" Cerys said incredulously.
"Of admitting that maybe you're just as confused as Riddle."
Cerys looked at Helena for a good moment, what in Merlin's name was she— Cerys cautiously shook her head. "No." She said slowly. "No. I—I admit I've... created a sort of friendship with him, and I may enjoy his company, but what you're entailing is that I might.... No."
"Dear, Ravenclaw. For the two most smartest students in Hogwarts, you two really have no knowledge in feelings." She said. "So you're telling me you hate him?"
"No, I don't hate him." Cerys scrunched up her nose. "I just... I don't feel for him." But as she thought over it... "I think."
"Ah, at least we're out of the denial stage."
"Could you please?" Cerys snapped, but the ghost remained un-phased, simply watching humour-fully the girl pace around.
"Aggression. Stage two." Helena smiled softly when she revived a harsh glare.
Cerys walked back and forth in front of the railing. She thought back to Evan's party, when Tom had pushed her away, and questioned why she cared. Did she care? "Maybe..." she swallowed thickly, her voice just above a whisper, scared the walls might whisk her words away to the devil. "I care about him a little."
"Stage three. Hesitance. You're getting through this awfully fast." Cerys gave Helena a look that told her it was now enough. "I apologize, it's just been so long since I've seen such a dramatic series of events."
"Very funny." Cerys muttered.
✧
January 19, 1947
She was confusing him. Cerys had been very quiet around him, and during his meetings, she showed a keen interest in his plans, yet after the meeting was over, she would always question him, his plan and his planning. He didn't understand, and he was growing more and more irritated day by day. It was now the first class of the morning, and Tom watched Cerys with narrowed eyes, as though studying her every move. She stood at the very front of the class, shifting from one foot from another as she waited with the rest of the student for Professor Merrythought.
A wardrobe faced them, and Tom already knew what the class would entail, boggarts. He could feel the tension in the air, nervousness silently travelling around the room, he'd know since his own was included. What would his boggart be? Maybe it would be nothing... right? At that moment, a certain witch's words crossed his mind. Hopefully, she'd be proven wrong over her assumption of his fear of death. Emphasis on hopefully.
A few, painfully long, minutes later, Professor Merrythought skipped into the room, looking especially excited. Watching student crumble under their biggest fears, how exciting. It would be for Tom as well if he weren't a part of it.
"Good morning, class. I hope you're ready for today's class." And so the lesson began. After explaining the spell, which wasn't all too complicated, one by one students were called up. Some shook in fear even before being called up. It was no surprise. A boy screamed when a tarantula appeared in front of him, jumping out of his skin and his wand dripping to the floor. The spider climbed on top of it and the boy looked to be ready to burst into tears. The class roared with laughter as the boy struggled to take a step closer to his wand, looking like he'd seen a ghost. Merrythought sighed and waved her wand, the boggart being flung back into the closet.
Tom clenched his fists every time a student was done. His focus was much less on the boggarts, and more focused on whose name would be called next. Five students later, his curiosity perked when he heard the name Grahamm.
Cerys took a deep breath, stepping forward. Professor Merrythought pointed her wand at the closet, unlocking the doors. Cerys could feel her stomach churn in anxiousness. Merlin please let it be—
And appeared a young boy, staring up at Cerys with wide, adoration filled, familiar eyes. Freckles were dusted over his cheeks, his light brown hair brushing against his eyes. William? What? The class watched with utter confusion. What was so scary about the cute young boy that all stood in front of them. Tom himself peaked over heads and between shoulders to get a better look at the boy. He looked no older than 11, and he could vaguely make out the resemblance between him and Cerys. Was this her brother?
"Come and play with me." He said. Cerys watched, baffled, as William began running around the room.
"What?" She breathed out, eyes fixated on her dead younger brother.
'What in Merlin's name is happening?'
'Bloody hell. I think we finally broke the boggart.'
If only. Cerys' heart jumped when Will landed with a hard thud on the ground. She almost went to help him. Almost. Her hand shook as she raised her wand. It felt wrong to raise her wand against her brother, even when he wasn't real. The thought made her heart ache. Will lifted his head, eyes filled with tears. Her composure faltered.
"You failed us." Her eyebrows furrowed. "Why did you do it?"
Faintly, high pitched yet distant sound began to resonate around the room. They could barely be distinguished.
"You said you'd make it better." The sounds got louder, and suddenly, they sounded much like screams. "You were supposed to save us, and yet you joined him. How could you? You betrayed us. You're responsible."
The students gasped, when abruptly a dark figure formed behind Cerys. "Indeed you are." Cerys felt every bone in her quake as the figure whispered the words oh so softly behind her. She spun around, her heart pounding against her chest. Stood before her was a cloaked figure, but she could see his face clearly. It was Tom, but it wasn't. The same face, yet eyes as red as blood glowed underneath the shadows of the hood over his head. The same smile, yet his grin was so much more sinister, like he had told a joke that she didn't understand. The same hands and fingers, and yet, it held the elder wand between them. "I may be behind it all, but you, oh you're just as responsible, darling."
His voice was much more hoarse, probably barely heard by the class, but they seemed to echo in her ears. The screams now rang throughout the room. Cerys understood what her biggest fear was now. Her nightmares turning into reality.
"All those people gone, because of you."
"It's all your fault!" William cried.
"If only you hadn't failed." Cerys' wand raised towards Will, and with an aching heart, she spoke the spell. The class had grown completely silent by now, and when Cerys turned around, they all looked terrified, but the most out all of them was Professor Merrythought. Before she knew it, Cerys was pulled out of the classroom by a very panicked Merrythought. She was muttering all sorts of things that Cerys couldn't understand.
'We must...'
'Oh, dear.'
'Dumbledore.'
Cerys stumbled over her feet as she struggled to keep up with the witch's pace. "Professor, where are we going?"
"We just get you to Headmaster Dippet's office." She said.
"What? Why?" Cerys exclaimed. The professor said nothing, dragging the young girl to Dippet's office. What seemed like moments later, Cerys didn't even realize she was standing before three professors; Dumbledore, Dippet, and Merrythought, bombarding her with different questions.
"Who was he?"
"Why did he have the elder wand?"
"Was he Grindelwald?"
"Was he a follower of Grindelwald?"
"How do you know him?"
Cerys' head spun and her mind raced in utter panic. Their voices seemed to be coming from every direction, everything a complete blur as her head whipped around. She wasn't sure who was saying what, which voice belonged to who, who she should answer first and how. She felt as though the world was about to swallow her up and she barely heard herself when she yelled "stop!" Their noise ceased but her ears rang with such ferocity, she couldn't help but run out of the room for an escape, not bothering to even glance at Tom who stood on the other side of the wall. Just faintly, she heard him call out her name. She didn't stop, she couldn't. The castle used to feel like a home to her, now as the walls felt like they were closing up on her, gradually narrowing around her, it felt like a nightmare.
Cerys didn't know where she was going, but she certainly found out when she fell over her feet and landed on the thin layer of snow that blanketed the courtyard. She hissed, turning her hands over to reveal bloodied hands. Cerys' head shot up when she heard a shriek. No one. She heard another, but she was still alone in the courtyard. Her breath picked up as she heard more voices, familiar ones. Suddenly, she realized where she was. The clouds in the sky turned darker, the courtyard falling to pieces as they all walked in with the dead body of Harry Potter.
'Potter is dead!'
Cerys choked on her own breaths as she looked around. Everyone was there, gasping and weeping in despair. She could hear them all. She could hear the cries of anguish of Molly Weasley over her son, the desperate weeping of Potter as he saw the dead bodies of his only family, the high pitched wailing of Teddy Lupin who lost his parents, the blood curling and heart wrenching screams of the tortured victims of Voldemort. Cerys shook her head violently, tears now streaming down her face as she covered her ears and shut her eyes tight.
"No, no, no."
Tom rushed into the courtyard, absolutely shocked by the sight of Cerys in snow soaked clothes as she curled over her knees. He approached her with caution, as though scared of the terrified girl. "Grahamm." He said softly, but she it was like she couldn't hear him over her chanting.
"Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop." She sounded so desperate and scared, unable to comprehend Tom saying her name. Even Tom felt anxious... what was happening to her?
"Cerys. Cerys... Cerys!" He grasped her by the shoulders, shaking her abruptly. Like being snapped out of a trance, the witch's eyes flew open, flitting around the courtyard as though looking for something that was no longer there. Slowly, she lowered her hands from her ears. Her lips quivered as she practically gasped out her breaths. Unsure what to do, Tom carefully helped her up. He was sure Dumbledore, Merrythought and Dippet would be here soon, he had just barely escaped from being caught. "Come on." He said gently, taking her to the only place that they would get some peace and quiet, the bridge.
So, I'm a bit late this time, I know, but I've just got some great ideas for this book, and I'm hoping they turn out the way they are in my head. Anywho, how do you like the journey of Tom and Cerys so far?
First vote for the last chapter is...
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- S. Hamilton xx