Chapter 15: The Heir of Slytherin
Estela was in the library picking out various books from different sections, in the hope of trying to find out information about Salazar Slytherin's beast that was hidden somewhere in the castle. She had been searching for the whole morning and afternoon, but couldn't manage to find anything so far.
The door to the library slowly opened and Estela instinctively looked up. She stared for a moment at who walked in. It was Tom, but he looked completely different. He did not walk with his usual proud stride, he had a faint limp and his body curved slightly as though he was in pain, his eyes didn't seem as piercing and he seemed weak.
Tom caught her gaze but did not approach her, instead he looked away and went and sat in the opposite side of the library. Estela felt a pang of worry surge through her. She should be revelling at his weakness, but as much as she hated the feeling, she hoped he wasn't hurt.
Her curiosity got the better of her and she needed to know what was wrong with him. She had never, not once, seen him in such a state before. Never in all her years at Hogwarts had she seen him be even remotely ill or hurt in any way. He had this aura of invincibility about him, but now all she saw was vulnerability.
Estela picked up her books and walked slowly towards where Tom was sitting, approaching him with caution. His head was toppled over a black leather book, but there was no writing on its pages to her eye.
"That looks interesting." Estela said sarcastically, looking down at the blank book before Tom.
He didn't move. He didn't so much as raise his head. Estela knew something was wrong - badly wrong. He'd been hurt, but who in the name of Merlin would hurt him? Nobody dared speak to him at times due to his sheer intimidation. She couldn't imagine anyone being able to do this to him.
She slowly sat down opposite him, a strange feeling beginning to stir within her. "Are you ok?" He raised his head slowly and focused his eyes on her. His expression was cold and drained, and his face looked gaunt.
"I'm fine," he mumbled harshly.
She pursed her lips. "No you're not. What happened?"
"Nothing." He bit back, his face becoming more and more annoyed with each word Estela spoke.
"You're usually a good liar, Riddle." She said. "I think you should go to the hospital wing. You look like you're about to collapse any second."
"I'm not going anywhere. Just leave me alone." He said as his head dropped back down to look at the small black book.
"Fine. Don't tell me what happened and lie to me some more, why don't you?"
She could tell he couldn't be bothered by the meagreness of his response. "Just go, Markorp."
Estela scoffed. "I will." She shot at him. "But seeing as I'm a decent person, would you like me to get you anything, seeing something is blatantly wrong?"
Tom's body stiffened slightly at her words. He felt his weakness and despised it. He imagined what he must look like. Weak. He despised the notion. He felt vulnerable and hated the fact that Estela felt sorry for him. He didn't want to be seen like that. His head flew back up again and his face seemed to suddenly become more alive.
"Just leave me alone." He hissed darkly, his eyes cutting into Estela's like knives as he spoke.
She hesitated, but she knew that pressing him further would only make him angrier. She inclined her head slightly and without another word, she stood up and went back to where she had been sitting.
She felt worried, despite how much she hated him at times, something had definitely happened, it was obvious. Why wouldn't he tell her? As she tried to get him out of her head, she opened a new book and began to read before Mrs Helma Wigg, the Care of Magical Creatures professor came into the library looking stressed. Estela overheard her and Madame Pince's conversation.
"Any book in particular you're looking for, Helma?" she heard Madame Pince's stern voice ask.
"Yes, actually. Anything to do with chickens!" she exclaimed, "mine 'ave all gone missin', ya see...Strange really. Doubt it was one of the kids, they were under good security. Anything that'll tell me wher' I could find 'em or what might'a chased them away, Madame?"
"I'll see what I can find you," said Madame Pince as she set off into one of the book sections.
Chickens gone missing...Chickens being chased away...The cockerels too? Estela wondered. If so then she might be a step closer to finding out what the monster was...
"Professor, I hear your chickens have gone missing?"
"They 'ave. Pity, ain't it. You wouldn't 'appen to know anythin' 'bout it, would you?"
"I'm afraid not, professor. Is it just the chickens that have gone, or the cockerels too?"
"The chickens, the cockerels, the lot! Don't know what's 'appened to them."
"Strange...Well I hope you come across them, professor," Estela smiled at the professor and walked back to where she was sitting.
She opened a book she had been reading earlier, Most Macabre Monstrosities, and her eyes fell on page 724 which said:
"Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it."
Interesting... Could this be our monster?
She glanced over at Tom who was now grinning slyly at her, his face still gaunt and much paler than usual, but there was a definite spark that wasn't present earlier. On a black piece of parchment she drew a picture of a large snake and held up the paper for Tom to see. He winked at her and returned to his book.
A basilisk... Now where is it hiding and how does it get out...Estela got up, kept her books and left the library, giving Tom one last glance before leaving.
Tom, despite his body aching in pain, was in deep thought. He was reading through his diary, which was now a horcrux, as far as he knew. Despite his certainty that he had succeeded in making the horcrux, he still felt incredibly whole and intact. Yes, his body was agonising from the use of the Cruciatus curse, but he didn't feel any different otherwise. His diary didn't look or feel different either. Surely some sort of magical trace would be evident had a part of his soul successfully latched its self onto it.
***
Tom had called for a meeting with his followers in the Dark Forest that evening. He felt less weak now, and had re-gained a lot of his strength and power. The Knights of Walpurgis waited silently in the forest for Tom to arrive, positioned in a circle, each of them dressed in black robes with hoods that covered most of their faces.
Tom appeared out of the darkness, he approached silently, his feet not so much as making a sound as he walked over the dry ground. At his arrival his Knights removed their hoods and looked at him expectantly.
"Good evening. It's been a while since we've had a meeting like this, my friends." He said, glancing around the circle of followers. "But there's a very important reason I have gathered you here tonight. No doubt you've noticed that I've taken a great interest in Estela Markorp this year, and I'm sure you're wondering why." He said, as he circled his friends, looking them in the eye one by one. "My ultimate goal is, of course, power. Now I have discovered that Markorp holds great power. She is, as I believe, a direct descendant of both Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin."
Some of the boys' eyes widened at the news. "She will play a key part in my quest." Said Tom darkly. "And now I'm going to assign each of you a task, and I want you to complete it without question." he said threateningly. "Rosier, I would like you to question Helena Ravenclaw. Find out as much as you can about her past, but be discreet. She will not give up such information willingly."
"Yes, my Lord," he nodded.
"Lestrange, you will accompany him. We can't rely on him for such a delicate matter." he said as some of the other boys sniggered.
"Of course, my Lord," nodded Rodolphus Lestrange with a devious grin. "Avery and Dolohov, you will do the same with the Bloody Barron. That will be difficult, but find out all you can." The boys nodded.
"Abraxas, you will accompany me. We are going to test some of Markorp's hidden abilities."
"Yes, my Lord." He said, flashing a cunning smile.
"We will begin tomorrow," he said, looking around at his Knights before his face darkened and his voice lowered. "Do not fail me."
***
Estela spent most of her time in the library now, trying to figure out how the basilisk roamed the school without anyone seeing it, who killed the chickens and where the basilisk was hidden.
Her mind was racing. Webs and links formed in her brain, spinning and spiralling from one possibility to the other. But almost every time she thought she had come close to a solution, the webs fell, as though someone had deliberately brushed them away with a swipe of their hand.
She sighed heavily and sat back in her chair, massaging her temples in circular motions so that her eyes moved up and down. Her skull seemed to be thumping. And when she looked at the clock, she realised she'd been here all day trying to figure this out. No wonder her head felt like something was hammering against it.
She closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself to rest before she decided it was time to stop her research for the day. She didn't want to overwork herself.
And that's when she heard it. That cold, echoing voice she had heard before.
"Come to me... I smell your blood... I need your blood..."
She shook her head and swallowed hard. She must be imagining it. She was exhausted.
"Come to me... Closer... I smell blood... Blood... Powerful blood..."
It was louder this time. Closer. As though it was moving.
And that's when she got up without hesitation and followed the voice. She stopped in the empty corridor outside the library and stood stiller than the statues that lined the stone walls, straining her ears.
The slippery voice let out another hiss of distant words, and she may be tired or crazy - or both - but she was sure It was coming from the walls. She pressed her ear to the cold stone of the wall and listened.
"Blood... Powerful blood..."
She was off. Darting down the corridors, her chest heaving heavily with each step, her heart hammering in her chest as she followed the voice.
It was moving, and it was moving fast, and she was forced to stop in her tracks as she came to a dead end. She turned to continue in the other direction when something on the ground caught her and she froze. A snake. Small and sleeping. Slowly, it uncurled from its slumber and raised its head into the air and stared at her.
She furrowed her brow and stared back. And she could have sworn that the snake winked at her. And that's when she realised just how exhausted she must truly be. Very slowly, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the snake. She would paralyse the creature and inform a teacher. But just before she waved her wand to perform the spell, the snake spoke.
That's right. It spoke.
"Estela Markorp,." Hissed the snake, and she could physically feel the blood drain from her face as the sound met her ears.
She backed away a few steps. "Right... I'm very tired and... Merlin's beard I'm hearing snakes..."
"This isn't your imagination. You've been, as you say, hearing snakes for quite some time..."
"You're the voice I've been hearing? The one in the walls?"
"Not quite... A distant brother of mine..."
She blinked. "How - how am I speaking to you?"
"I think you know that, young Ravenclaw. What skill allows people to speak to snakes?"
Her mouth went bone dry. A parselmouth could speak to snakes, she'd read about the rare ability a few times in the past. But she was most definitely not a parselmouth. There were only two ways one could become a parselmouth.
"But I'm not a parselmouth." She insisted.
"But of course you are." Said the snake, it's fork-shaped tongue flicking out of its mouth as though it was smelling her.
"And so am I," said a deep voice from behind her. Estela swirled round, her wand raised, as she met the cool gaze of Tom Riddle who was strolling towards her.
"You? You're a parselmouth?" Estela shot at him, he nodded lazily. "What? But how? You can only speak parseltongue if you dedicate your life to learning it."
"You know that's not true," he said, tilting his head to one side. "You know there's another reason, you're just avoiding it."
"Yes, fine, well, you can only speak it if you dedicate your life to learning it or... or..."
"Or if you're a descendant of Salazar Slytherin." Tom finished.
Her heart sank. Those were the words she was been trying to avoid. "So you're a descendent of Slytherin then, are you?"
"Yes, I'm an heir of Slytherin." He said. "And so are you, Estela."
She shook her head. "No. No I'm not."
"Then you've dedicated your life to learning Parseltongue, have you?" He asked with an arched brow. "Come now, haven't you seen the signs?"
"Then why aren't I in Slytherin?"
Tom clucked his tongue. "Haven't you added it all up yet, Markorp? It's getting a bit obvious now. The ghost of Helena Ravenclaw keeping a watchful eye on you, the dress with the gemstone engraved with Rowena Ravenclaw's initials." Estela did not speak. "You are a relative of both Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw."
"But it's not possible!" She said in disbelief, her voice fluctuating. "Unless..." Her mind stopped at one thought. A distant memory. A tale - a rumour - she had once read. "Helena and the Bloody Baron. It's true?"
Tom nodded.
"But then the chamber - the Chamber of Secrets - It can only be opened by-"
"The heir of Slytherin."
The world seemed to crash around her and everything inside her seemed to burn and freeze over in one mighty battle of anger, shock and deep hatred.
She flinched at the way he stood there so calmly - so casually - and the way he spoke the words without a single trace of emotion.
"You opened the Chamber of Secrets? You let the Basilisk loose? You-" She paused. "You killed Myrtle!" she roared, and Tom took a step closer towards her as though he wanted to calm her down. "Get away from me." She growled dangerously."You're a murderer! Stay away from me!"
And with one last disgusted glance at him, she set off down the corridor and didn't once look back.
Tom's face flushed red. That had not gone as he had planned. He was meant to show her how great they both were, and how powerful they could both be. In his rage he pointed his wand towards the snake on the floor and muttered the words, "Avada kedavra."