For the next few days the writing on the wall was all anyone could talk about, rumours about the chamber of secrets and the heir of slytherin circled the castle and it seemed Eliza was the favourite of being the absolute nut-case who petrified Mrs Norris. Although the school did seem to have mixed views on it, many people knew her as a kind, helpful girl despite being in Slytherin. Others were more than happy to succumb to their bias of Slytherin and proclaim her the new dark lady in the making. Sadly the people who subscribed to that line of thought were plentiful and irritatingly loud.
Even History of Magic was swept up in the news, Binns diverting from his rambling on goblin wars since perhaps even before he died when Granger asked about the Chamber.
"Let me see... the Chamber of Secrets..."
Despite herself Eliza looked up from her studying and began listening to Binns ardantly like the rest of the class.
"You all know of course that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by the greatest witches and wizards of the time. They built it far away from prying Muggle eyes and they worked in harmony for a while until disagreements sprang up between the others and Slytherin who wished to be more selective in their students"
"Of course" Weasley commented snidely "blood purists the lot of them"
Eliza felt Theo bristle beside her at the accusation flung against their house. And really, how was Eliza meant to let an insult like that slide.
"Well actually, if you don't mind me interrupting Professor Binns" Eliza directed at the professor who looked like he was going into shock over having such a lively class "If you had been listening to the professor Weasley you would have understood that all of this was going on in a time of mass witch hunting. Our people were being burnt and drowned and killed by muggles and muggleborns were being smothered in the cradle – Hogwarts was one of the only safe places at the time and it was being put in jeopardy by inviting muggleborns who risked exposing the community" Eliza finished lecturing and all the Slytherins were smothering small smiles "and you call our founder a blood purist because you can't or rather don't want to comprehend the real reason" she finished snidely and took great pleasure in seeing the dumb-founded looks on the gryffindor's faces.
"Yes quite Miss Peterson" Binns said, Eliza didn't bother correcting him and allowed him to continue to tell the story, sitting back in satisfaction.
"When Slytherin left legend took truths place and now we hear stories that Slytherin built a chamber and sealed it when he left. None would be able to open it but the true heir and unleash the horror within and purge the school of those unworthy to study magic"
There was a tense silence that filled the class, unlike the usual drowsy quiet that rested over the room.
"Sir- what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the chamber?" Granger asked staring at Binns in trepidation.
"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the heir alone can control" said professor Binns and the ghost soon resumed his lecture on Goblin Wars uncaring for the nervous tension that filled his classroom. And as the class returned to its usual torpor Eliza couldn't help but feel comforted by the fact she was not the first monster Slytherin had housed.
~
However soon enough all talk of the chamber of secrets was replaced with something a lot more important; Quidditch. Specifically the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor game being held that weekend. The hallways had become battle fields and house rivalries had never been as high and Eliza found she couldn't even sit in the library anymore without being caught up in the tension.
Eliza didn't really care for Quidditch, she liked flying well enough. Her little stint on a broom when she had been trying to stop Voldemort- and wasn't that a weird string of words- had told her that much. But actual Quidditch? She found it boring. At least watching it was boring, it was like muggle football. However she was Queen of Slytherin and a Queen must always support her subjects the voice in her head that suspiciously sounded like Daphne told her.
So with great reluctance Eliza had bundled up in a sweater and a scarf and for good measure threw on the beaten leather jacket that she hadn't been able to part with. She had found it in a charity shop one day and the woman behind the counter must have seen how taken Eliza was with it, little nine year old Eliza in scraggly second hand clothes and a busted lip from where she had been pushed down the stairs, and had given it to her.
It was not Wizarding fashion at all but it was cold and Eliza liked it which was good enough for her. Daphne gave her a dirty look when she saw the offended article of clothing but until Eliza found a functioning winter robe that didn't drape all the way down to her knees she refused to part with the thing.
She and her court made their way to the Slytherin stands battling against the wind and rain as they walked up the stairs.
"Remind me why we're here again" Theo said from beside her as they took a seat in the stands.
"Because if I have to suffer so do you" Eliza responded when it became blatantly clear Daphne and Blaise were ignoring their moping.
The game started and it immediately began to rain making Eliza feel ten times more dreadful than before. She had cast the impervious charm on all her clothes but that didn't mean she enjoyed standing out in the cold wet weather.
Also one of the bludgers kept gravitating towards her.
It was quite alarming actually.
But even with the Slytherin beaters having to protect Eliza from an obviously tampered bludger for more than half of the game they somehow still won the match, Draco Malfoy catching the snitch and winning Slytherin their first game of the season.
The game had ended but the bludger hadn't stopped. Eliza noticed it barrelling towards her just in time to push the others out of the way.
"Bombarda!" she shouted and ducked when the bludger exploded into tiny pieces. She and her court slowly stood up sharing suspicious glances with one another. It was obvious someone had tampered with the bludger.
Eliza wished she could say life threatening situations were still new to her but instead she swore she would never attend another quidditch game ever again.
That night Slytherin celebrated their victory in the common rooms. Snape had taken one look at the discarded bottles of fire whiskey and told Eliza that they were her problems to deal with now. Eliza didn't really mind, it really was true when people said Slytherin's threw the best parties and Eliza couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard than she did when she heard Marcus Flint confess how much he wanted to kiss Oliver Wood's stupid face. Most of the Slytherins didn't even make it back to their own dorm and she and her court held an impromptu sleep over when she bullied Selwyn ('call me Roman') into conjuring up blankets for them all.
Eliza fell asleep happy and content and for the first time in a long while her sleep was not plagued with nightmares.
But then Hogwarts woke up to the news that little Colin Creevey had been petrified.
And everything became just that bit worse.
Dumbledore called her up to his office the next day and this time there was no mystery over why she was called up there. Eliza sat across from him, the picture of prim and proper with a polite expression plastered on her face, a hand painted expression perfected to an art form.
"My dear girl" Dumbledore said solemnly looking unbearably disappointed "I did not think you would bring us to this"
Eliza slumped back in her chair crestfallen.
"Sir you can't think I did this, that I would do anything like this" Eliza said ardently, pleading and watched as a flicker of uncertainty passed his face until resolve took its place.
"The attacks have continued even though you have assured me before Eliza, surely you understand why I must do this" he said almost pleading her to understand, she was sure he would rest easier if she agreed.
"Do what?" Eliza asked her confusion not actually faked. Dumbledore heaved a sigh and Eliza didn't think she'd ever seen him look more his age than in that moment.
"For the safety of Hogwarts Eliza, I must expel you"
"What!" Eliza shouted feeling panic flood through her "you can't expel me sir, this is, Hogwarts is my home" she pleaded not even faking the tremble in her voice nor the terror in her eyes.
"You leave me with no choice-
"Under what grounds!" Eliza exploded standing up "because I'm a Slytherin? I'm not even related to the Slytherin lines, I have alibis, I-
"Please listen to me Eliza-
"No" Eliza said strongly and watched as he reeled back in shock. She wondered what he had seen in her to shock him that much. Probably something far away from the distraught little hero he had hoped for.
"You listen to me sir. If you expel me headmaster and then the attacks continue, which they will, you will be forced to come to terms with your own inherent bias and the fact that you expelled a completely innocent girl and left her to the wolves stripping her of the only place she had ever found a home" she said insidiously calm and watched his face pale further "And I don't think you want to do that" she finished lowly as he shook his head.
She smiled then and she knew it wasn't a pleasant one, it was a nasty thing with too many teeth and with too much threat of violence for a twelve year old. It had a bestial quality to it but at least that way Dumbledore would know it was real.
"Good day sir"
Eliza stormed out of the office releasing a shaky exhale of air as she calmed her racing heart. That had been too close. She would have to speed up some of her plans concerning Dumbledore, no doubt he would not be trusting her again after that.
So consumed in her thoughts Eliza didn't notice the Gryffindor girl in front of her until they barrelled into each other. The Weasley girl (could only be a Weasley with hair that red) let out a yelp when they banged into each other. Eliza tumbled back regaining her footing and feeling more annoyed by the minute. Weasley must have seen the growing murderous ire in her eyes and squeaked grabbing her fallen books and rushing down the corridor.
Eliza let out an exasperated sigh stopping in the corridor as she tried to calm herself down, it would do no good to return to her Slytherins angry, when she noticed the twit of a girl had left a book in the corridor. Eliza was debating whether or not to just leave the book where it was when she noticed something unusual about it.
Now Eliza wouldn't say she could see or sense most magic but she was intimately acquainted with her own, the way it snapped and coiled around her, the way it wrapped around her friends bringing comfort to all of them, the way it felt coursing through someone else's veins.
But she had never felt her magic react to anything the way it did about that book. It leapt and crackled through her veins, surging through her with such an intense curiosity Eliza didn't think she could ignore it if she wanted too. She picked up the black leather book from the floor and felt it almost pulse in her hands when it came into contact with her magic.
Eliza checked the empty corridor and then slid the book into her messenger bag. Right now she had to go and reassure her house that Dumbledore would certainly not be getting rid of her anytime soon. Her court always teased her on her mothering tendencies but they always conveniently forget that they were just as bad. The curious book was a problem for later.
Except Eliza never got to later. She had to reassure her house that everything would be fine and then Snape had given her a fresh hellish batch of essays to mark and then she and her court had to have several discussions on what they wanted to change or who they think would be useful to bring into the court.
By the next Hogsmeade trip Eliza had officially implemented one of the ideas she had come up with over summer. The Hogsmeade trading system. As Hogsmeade was only available to third years and up it meant a lot of things weren't actually accessible for a lot of the house, especially if you couldn't depend on owl delivery forms like Blaise whose mother monitored his purchases. Eliza had initially approached Fawley but the older girl had taken one look at Eliza' innocent smile and had walked away hollering something about being 'sick of being roped into your crazy schemes' and that the 'self-defence lessons were more than enough' which to be fair the younger Slytherin's had needed less and less thanks to Snape's syllabus and the 'buddy system' Eliza had also implemented.
Still Eliza understood she was putting too much on Fawley's shoulders and instead approached Roman who had quickly become an unofficial member of Eliza's court. She explained her idea to the sixth-year who was overjoyed at the concept and immediately began roping in his friends to make it work.
The Friday before Hogsmeade weekend Eliza would pin a piece of parchment to the notice board where anyone could write down something they were in need of and unable to get e.g quills, ink pots, parchment or even a butterbeer. They would give the money to the official designated 'delivery people' of that Hogsmeade trip and essentially Eliza had officially created their own delivery service.
And it bloody worked.
So she had been very busy these past few weeks so it was completely understandable she had forgotten all about that strange little book until Fate forcibly reminded her. Eliza had been in the library practically all of Saturday and had haphazardly been shoving all her study materials back into her bag when she realised it was already tea time and Daphne would almost certainly lynch her if she missed it one more time. She had been throwing in her last few pieces of parchment (and really why couldn't wizards just have notebooks) when she heard her ink pot clatter open.
Groaning at her horrendous luck she had resolved to sort out the mess of her book bag after tea in the comfort of her own dorm. Which brought her to here, curiously prodding the strange black book she had all but forgotten about.
Because every other book in her bag had been soaked through with ink which she had painstakingly cleaned from all but the Lockhart books. But the journal was completely ink free. It was actually free of anything because when Eliza had flipped through it she had found nothing but blank pages. Which, in itself, wasn't that odd but considering Weasley should have been writing in it or it at the very least should be vandalised by her run away ink pot was strange indeed.
Eliza had tried every revealing charm she knew but nothing had changed. The only thing about the diary she had found was presumably the previous owners name, T.M Riddle, which sounded curiously familiar for some reason and that the diary had been made on Vauxhall Road which wasn't that far from Eliza's orphanage.
Eliza crossed her legs frowning down at the diary tapping her quill against her chin. The ink had to have gone somewhere right? Dipping her quill into her newly repaired ink pot Eliza allowed some of the ink to drip onto the pages.
To her amazement the ink blots were actually absorbed into the page. She waited a few beats longer but nothing else seemed to happen. She was just about to call it a day and put it down to being some sort of practical joke when words began to appear on the page in an elegant scrawl
'Hello, my name is Tom Riddle, may you grant me the knowledge of yours?'
A sentient book. That really couldn't be an omen for anything good.
You may call me Astrid Eliza wrote back curiously feeling how the magic around the diary seemed to pause in thought.
I gave you my real name, isn't it only fair for you to return the favour?
The writing responded and Eliza had to wonder how the hell it knew if she was telling the truth or not, she wondered what it even was in the first place.
In the muggle world there are stories of Fae creatures, they learn your real name and in turn they then own it, own your soul. What would you do with my name Riddle? What would you do with my soul? Excuse me for being dubious.
She wrote down, the ink had barely faded into the page when it- Riddle? already responded.
Paranoid, little star?
You could tell me what you are and I might be inclined to tell you my name
A couple of beats passed before more words began appearing on the page in that elegantly flowing script.
I am a memory of my previous owner preserved in this diary for almost 50 years now. I always considered Hogwarts a home and I couldn't bear to part with it and so created this, to help other students – much like how the mirrors are imbued with some form of sentience as am I. Has that satisfied your curiosity?
And Eliza would have almost believed him, would have been willing to accept that this is one of the Wizarding things she had yet to discover.
She would have believed Tom Riddle completely if it weren't for the invasive probing feeling of someone trying to slip into her mind. She slammed her occlumency barriers in place forcibly shunting out the diary from her mind breathing a sigh of relief when she felt the invasive presence slip away.
Nice try Riddle but you're not getting into my head
The diary went silent for a while and if it was possible for an aura of magic to feel mulish Eliza thought it would feel like this.
So that brings me back to my earlier question, just what exactly are you?
Riddle, probably sensing a new opportunity leapt to answer her question even though his handwriting stayed immaculate (Eliza totally wasn't envious or anything)
How about we make a wager Little Star?
Go on
We keep talking until Yule, if you figure out what I am in that time than you can do what you wish with me, I will be at a clear disadvantage, you would know my weakness
Eliza frowned pensively at the page.
And if I don't?
You tell me your name
Eliza frowned more as she mulled over Riddle's wager. On the surface she truly had nothing to lose, conversing with Riddle for another month and perhaps satisfying her curiosity in the process. She would have to tell him her name if she lost but with her occlumency barriers in place she doubted he could do much of anything.
It was more what Riddle got out of this wager that troubled her. Why was he so insistent on learning her name? What even was he in the first place and what would he do if he ever got past her mind barriers?
But he did say he had been trapped in the diary for fifty years. Perhaps, perhaps he was simply lonely.
Eliza knew how it felt to be locked away.
Okay Riddle, you're on.
The diary's magic almost purred in satisfaction as her own curled around it. Eliza shook off the oddity and pressed her quill against the paper again.
I do have a few questions for you however
I will be happy to answer but only if the sentiment is returned by you
Riddle wrote and Eliza knew she had to be dealing with nothing else but a Slytherin, no one loved word play and deals more than snakes.
What house were you in?
Slytherin of course, and you?
Slytherin of course
Eliza echoed with a smile.
You are writing to the current Queen of the house she couldn't help put tack on in a moment of pride.
Ah your last year is it?
No. I'm a second year actually.
Riddle didn't speak for a long while after that, his magic drifting around hers in what she could only assume was a contemplative manner.
Impressive, I didn't conquer the house until my fifth year, the year I was preserved in this diary.
Riddle probably didn't know how much he had revealed by saying that. She gathered the impression he usually wasn't so careless but perhaps her confession had truly shocked him.
Okay Riddle one more question before I try to claw back a healthy sleep schedule.
Yes?
Did you ever carve your initials into the Hogwarts express?
Her question seemed to have taken him aback if the prolonged silence was anything to go by.
Yes I did actually, it was my last year. Why do you ask?
I carved my initials next to yours on the train this year, thought it was a funny coincidence.
Do you not believe in fate, little star?
Do you?
Riddle apparently had nothing to say to that and so Eliza dismissed her lumos and curled up into her bed drawing the covers tightly around her.
It had been a while since she had had this much fun.
~
As the last weeks of November faded into December Eliza found herself talking to Riddle more and more. Every night when she returned to her dorm she would draw the curtains around herself, plop down cross legged on her bed and start talking to Riddle. She was no closer to finding out what the diary actually was but Riddle was interesting enough company himself to make up for the blanket of mystery surrounding him. They talked about everything and anything and Eliza wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even herself, but she looked forward to her chats with Riddle. The boy was witty and sharp and he kept her on her toes in a way she missed. A sense of danger surrounded him, as well as finding a kindred spirit.
He was a paradox she couldn't help but like.
And merlin they talked a lot.
I noticed the diary was made on Vauxhall Road, it's honestly not that far away from my orphanage but you don't speak like you're a muggleborn?
Half-blood
Riddle wrote shortly as if the admission pained him.
Ah, I suppose we can add that to the pile of things we have in common.
Another odd thing about her and Riddle. They were similar in a lot of ways, half-bloods, Slytherins who rose to the top and, perhaps the most surprising admission. They both lived in an orphanage.
You mentioned you lived in an orphanage?
Yeah, Eliza wrote back frowning not a pleasant place for anyone really
A sentiment I can agree with
You too?
Orphaned as soon as I was born, the Devil Child of Wools orphanage. I begged again and again to stay at Hogwarts over the summer holidays and again and again I was sent back to the orphanage, in the middle of a war with no magic on my side.
Riddle sounded the most embittered and angry she had ever seen the boy and Eliza felt taken aback by the rage she felt emanating from the diary. Another thing she had gotten good at over the past two weeks. She didn't know whether it was something to do with the magic of the diary or if she was just getting to know Riddle better but she had been picking up more on the boy's emotions.
Actually I was wondering if you knew about the war.
Riddle began hesitantly, he was usually straightforward with his questioning.
The previous owner of this diary was pure-blood but with you being muggle-raised do you know when the war actually ended?
September, 1945
Ah.
Riddle wrote back and it was amazing how such a simple acknowledgment held so much despair. Riddle had told her he had started Hogwarts in 1938 which meant the diary, whatever it was, was created in 1943, his fifth year.
This Riddle, the Riddle that was in the diary had never seen the end of the war. For fifty years had been left to wonder about how they had survived, for how long they had suffered. On some level Eliza could understand why he had been so desperate to preserve a piece of himself, any part of himself, if every year he had to return to muggle London in the middle of the Blitz.
Eliza directed the conversation back to nicer waters. She told Riddle about her week, her now subdued feud with Malfoy and in turn he regaled her with conversation about his own Hogwarts day's full, witty anecdotes and dry humour that had her laughing well into the night.
Honestly the grandeur of Hogwarts sickened me those first few weeks Riddle wrote A filthy mudblood thrown into Slytherin surrounded by heirs to noble houses and grandeur after living in an orphanage all my life
I had the same exact feelings although it was probably worse in your day. I feel like I'm constantly playing catch up Eliza found herself confessing one night I pack my clothes the muggle way, tie my shoes, make the bed but for all my friends it's second nature to use magic. Did you ever feel like you'd never escape the muggle world?
Every day.
But she couldn't spend all her day speaking to Riddle. She had obligations to fill, lessons to attend and-
"A duelling club?" Eliza questioned raising an eyebrow in response at Blaise over the table in the great hall. Ignoring Daphne's sharp glare Eliza continued dusting her strawberries in sugar and turned to listen to Blaise.
"First meeting is before we break up for Yule, it could be worth attending Eliza"
Eliza nodded her head in thought and at eight 'o' clock that night she found herself stood in the great hall amongst a throng of other students who had arrived for the duelling club.
"I heard Flitwick was a duelling champion" Daphne said from her left "maybe he'll be in charge"
Theo snorted running a hand through his curly hair.
"I'd settle for even Binns as long as it's not-" he began but ended in a long drawn out painful groan when Lockhart leapt onto the stage in all of his horrendous glory.
"Gather round everyone" Lockhart exclaimed as everyone shuffled closer.
"We could just leave now" Blaise suggested staring at Lockhart in muted horror.
"I doubt anyone would notice" Daphne chimed in but Eliza simply smirked.
"But then you'd miss out on the show" she said gesturing to Lockhart. Because standing beside the peacock was Professor Snape looking more murderous than she had ever seen him before as Lockhart continued to ramble on.
"On the count of three we will cast our spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill of course"
Eliza couldn't help but think that was a bit of a shame.
Quicker than Eliza would have expected Snape had cast expelliarmus with such force that Lockhart actually stumbled back a few paces.
It wasn't just the Slytherins who cheered at that.
After that Lockhart quickly decided that was enough practical demonstration and had them split them all up to get some 'hands on experience' Daphne and Eliza paired up, as did Theo and Blaise and they all began trading simply duelling spells boredly. Although Eliza did get a good laugh out of Theo's hair turning into antlers.
Apparently her Slytherin's were pretty much the only group with a hint of competency because when Lockhart called everyone to a halt the rest of the club he actually paled at the sight of the aftermath.
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells" Lockhart said looking flustered "how about a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Flinch-Fletchley, how about you?"
Before the two boys could respond Snape had cut them off, gliding over like the dungeon-bat he was. Eliza heard warning bells ring in her head. She had a feeling this was not going to end well.
"How about Malfoy and Potter?" he suggested with what could be classified as a smile and Eliza felt her fury spike. Sure she and Snape didn't have a particularly amicable relationship but she had thought he had been warming up to her, and now this? Interfering in house matters?
Eliza grumpily strode on to the platform, Malfoy standing across from her looking far too pleased with himself.
"Scared Potter?" Malfoy taunted although his insult fell flat when Eliza could vividly remember what he looked like in a snivelling heap at her feet.
"Three, two, one!" Lockhart shouted. Eliza had quickly raised a protego in preparation of whatever spell Malfoy would send only to be confused when he instead conjured a snake. A vicious, hissing snake that looked as though it was ready to strike anyone within moments.
Eliza stood motionless and cringed when Lockhart decided he would get rid of the snake instead of Snape. Lockhart's spell, whatever it was, backfired and instead hit the vicious snake with a loud crack. Enraged the snake reeled upon whoever was unluckily standing near it. Eliza closed her eyes now understanding why Malfoy had chosen to conjure a snake.
"Stop" Eliza commanded and watched as the snake slumped over docile "come here" she hissed again and lowered herself so the snake could crawl up her arm to rest on her shoulders. It had been the best thing to do. Either she had let the highly venomous snake attack Finch-Fletchley and there may have been a death at Hogwarts, or perhaps it would come out at a later date that Eliza was a parselmouth and as she hadn't stopped the snake she was indirectly responsible for the murder. Or she could clearly command the snake to not attack Justin, deal with the back-lash and wait for the Hogwarts population to forget it had even happened.
Although standing under the weight of their heavy accusatory glares Eliza began second guessing that decision.
When they arrive back at the common room it is in tense silence. The older years don't get involved but Eliza can tell they're offended on her behalf because this time it's not just Malfoy making a pest of himself in the commons. No Malfoy had broken the house rule, the house rule. Snakes must present a united front. And instead Malfoy had left her with no choice but to reveal herself, in times like these as well.
Her court behind her are vicious, Eliza knows she could go upstairs to her dorm, bury herself in covers and talk to Riddle and her court would handle Malfoy for her.
But she had not gotten to where she was now, a prodigy among her peers, a leader of her house, by being lazy. Eliza told her court to leave them be and she guided Malfoy to a secluded corner of the room.
To give credit to the boy he truly did look repentant, whether that be because he feared punishment or not would remain to be seen. Eliza pulled out her wand watching him flinch but instead of casting anything at him she instead cast a small privacy charm to ensure their peace. Having accomplished her task she slid her wand back into the waistband of her skirt and turned to face Malfoy.
"Why did you do that?" Eliza asked simply because she has tried everything else. She had tried instilling fear, had tried intimidation and ignorance and none of it had resolved whatever animosity that laid between them.
Just kill him Riddle has suggested one night when they had both been complaining about their time periods respective Malfoy's. Eliza still wasn't sure if he had been joking or not.
Malfoy fidgeted under her level stare looking distinctly uncomfortable beneath her undivided attention. Eliza just waited in silence until he was ready to speak.
"It's just" he began to say but cut himself off looking at her nervously. Eliza smiled easily and waited for him to speak.
"You have everything" he said and it was like that admittance took everything out of him as he slumped down in the chair across from her.
"you have everything" he repeated again not looking at her "I was meant to be leader of the court, I was supposed to be building allies and getting top grades and bringing honour to the Malfoy name" he said all of it spilling out of him "and then Severus was there and no doubt he'd tell my father that I was humiliated in front of the whole school and there was just, just one thing I knew I could do to avoid disappointing my father again" Malfoy rambled wringing his hands nervously.
"I'm sorry" he said earnestly looking like he was about to burst into tears. Not surprising considering what he did. Breaking the house rules led to you becoming a pariah until they were accepted back by the leader of the court ie Eliza.
She could understand the Malfoy heir. She didn't agree and she still thought he was a whiny insufferable git but she could understand. You were raised being told that you were the best, that everyone would bow down to you because that's what Malfoy's do, they command respect and then you get everything you think you know snatched away from you.
Because at the end of the day Malfoy was just a child, a child she had never had a chance of being and children will always make mistakes. Fear was a powerful motivator but you could not earn true loyalty out of terror.
"I want you to know that you have placed our house, have placed me in a very precarious position" she said and watched as he flinched at her words.
"But it's nothing I can't deal with" she finished. Malfoy's head snapped up blinking at her wide-eyed.
"The headmaster can't expel me no matter how much he wants too, the student populace is easily swayed and I will always have my house behind me" Eliza reasoned already planning what kind of damage control she'd need to execute.
"I don't punish people for their mistakes if it looks like they will learn from them Draco" Eliza said "and it's clear to me you already regret your actions so I'll tell you what's going to happen. You are going to go to bed because you look exhausted and serpansortia is a fifth year charm that you somehow managed to cast. And then in the morning you are going to come and sit with my court and we'll pretend this past year and a half didn't happen okay?" she said smiling slightly at Draco's shocked expression.
Nodding to himself Draco stood up and walked away heading to the dorms before he turned to look back at her.
"Eliza?" he called softly until she turned to face him "thank you"
Eliza nodded back in acknowledgment and watched as he finally disappeared up the stairs.
Funny, how some things work out.
It was hard to ignore Draco's presence when he joined them the next morning but over the next few days the blonde seemed to fit in seamlessly with the others. Secretly Draco was actually quite funny, he had a dry caustic wit and was apparently a lover of fashion and instantly built a great friendship with Daphne which surprised all of them.
He was also absolutely brilliant with charms work.
They all had their strengths in the group. Theo was talented in Potions, Daphne in transfiguration and surprisingly Blaise was a very adept herbologist. Eliza herself preferred Defence over any other subject as she simply enjoyed the practical applications a lot more. Draco filled in the missing gaps they had and Eliza couldn't be prouder of what her court was shaping up to be.
Of course things weren't exactly going perfectly.
Even though there had been no further attacks the news of Eliza's parselmouth abilities had caused outrage through the castle and people she had once considered allies now turned away from her in the corridors. Although it wouldn't matter soon, the Yule break began in just a few days and not surprisingly many people were leaving the castle for the holidays. Although this time Draco would also be staying in the castle over Yule. Apparently his godfather, Snape (and hadn't that been a surprise) would take him to the Malfoy Yule ball but would bring him back to Hogwarts after. Upon questioning Draco just muttered something about having an argument with his father and left it at that. Eliza didn't pry, Draco was new to the group it would take time for his trust in her to build.
Although there was one problem Eliza really could do without
I really do hate Dumbledore.
Ah don't we all Riddle replied with an almost bitter fondness that had Eliza snorting.
I didn't think he was headmaster back in your time Eliza wrote back not forgetting how Riddle is quite literally a relic from another time still rallying against the sands of the hourglass.
No he was the transfiguration professor. Biased against Slytherins and me in particular after our somewhat disastrous first meeting.
Oh really? Sweet and charming Tom Riddle getting on the professors bad side?
Eliza taunted because if she had learnt anything about Riddle these past few week it was that although he preferred to catch his flies with honey rather than vinegar there was no escaping the fact that he was the spider waiting in the parlour.
I could show you if you like.
Said the spider to the fly.
Eliza was honestly no closer to figuring out what Riddle was than she had been at the start of the wager, she had looked into pensieves for a while before giving up on that line of research. She had no idea what would happen if she and Riddle were to 'share' memories in any form. But then again if she kept her occlumency barriers up then surely nothing that bad would happen, plus she was far too curious to pass this up.
I would be happy too Riddle.
Barely seconds after she had written the words the diary's pages began to flip rapidly and suddenly Eliza was falling, falling further and further until she finally landed in what could only be Riddle's memory.
Shaking off the weird post-memory travel nausea Eliza looked around the memory curiously. It was immediately obvious she was in the orphanage Riddle had grown up in and she felt her heart ache just a bit when she saw the decrepit room, the tiny single bed and mouldy walls and a desk piled high with ratty book after book.
As horrible as her orphanage was it was at least habitable.
But it wasn't the room that she was truly focused on, it was its two occupants.
The man could only be Professor Dumbledore, his hair was ginger then but his eyes were the same infuriating blue and his robes were just as ridiculous.
The boy sat on the bed had to be Riddle, black slicked back hair and even at that age, intense dark brown eyes that didn't move from the professor.
He looked positively angelic.
Eliza at this point knew better, she knew no matter how hard he tried to mask it, that cruelty lies in the cracks of his soul. There are some things you can just never hide.
She watched as Dumbledore revealed the existence of magic, watched as Riddle lit up, eyes full of a burning vindication as he spoke.
"I knew it! It's magic what I can do isn't it? I can make things move without touching them"
'I knew there was something different about me, when I need things they float towards me'
"I can make animals do what I want to do without training them"
'Bow' she watched happily as Rosier bowed in front of her visibly straining in his effort to throw off her control'
"I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. I can make them hurt if I want too"
'When the other kids are mean to me, sometimes bad things happen to them'
"And I can speak to snakes too" the young Riddle finished as the memory continued to play on despite the sickening feeling Eliza could feel growing within her. Don't you believe in fate? The words echoed through her mind and distractedly she watched as Dumbledore lit Riddle's wardrobe on fire. It wasn't long after that that she was spat out of the diary feeling more confused than ever.
The first introduction I had to magic and Dumbledore threatened to set the only belongings I had on fire.
Riddle wrote unaware of the growing turmoil within her.
He never trusted me after that
Perhaps Dumbledore is inherently biased against snake speaking orphans
Eliza wrote back knowing she had to say something in response as she felt the panic rise inside her
You never told me you were a parselmouth before little star
Eliza slammed the diary shut throwing it into her trunk as if if she couldn't see the words Riddle was writing he didn't exist.
Because in the past 50 years there had only ever been one other parselmouth at Hogwarts.
The Dark Lord Voldemort.
Dumbledore's ridiculous suspicions about her were now beginning to make an alarming amount of sense.
do you believe in fate?