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"In addition," she continued, "it is our eventual hope to secure... if not a formal alliance, at least the cooperation of Lord Lucius and Lady Narcissa Malfoy. There are reasons to believe that they do not approve of what Armand Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange are doing."
"A sound idea," Lady Avery said.
"There is a great weapon available to the descendants of Salazar Slytherin, of which I am one. Yes," Tom said as several pairs of eyes went up, "you know of the legend. I can tell you that it is true. A basilisk sleeps in the bowels of Hogwarts, awaiting the orders of its true master, a Parselmouth of the line of Slytherin. I will retrieve this beast from Hogwarts in short order, and it will be a powerful weapon in our armory."
"Well said," spoke up Lady Wilkes. "I am proud to fight by your side, Lord Thomas, and I expect I speak for everyone else here."
There was a general murmur of agreement. Tom gazed out, his face purposely expressionless, but inwardly he was as smug as he had ever been before.
Peter Pettigrew had a much more dignified and respectful funeral than either Tom or Severus felt he deserved, with the representatives of seven wizarding noble families—including the great House of Black—present, but in the end, he had fought beside them and given his life for the family.
Lupin reappeared in time to see his old friend sent off, and it was hard for Tom and Hermione not to notice the fact that he stood next to Nymphadora Black as they and then Severus spoke in turn. Sirius Black did not return—at least as a human wizard. However, after he and Hermione had spoken, Tom nudged her and gestured surreptitiously in the direction of the grove of trees on the castle grounds. A pair of eyes were illuminated in the fading light. Hermione squinted and managed to make out the form of a black dog. She stifled a snort. At least Sirius had the basic decency to be present for a friend’s funeral. She hoped that the man would get past his silly tantrum soon.
After that event, Tom consulted with Severus to write the letter to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. It was not asking for a formal, sworn alliance, but instead expressed compassion for their difficulties and the concern and anxiety that they undoubtedly felt after the murders of Abraxas Malfoy and Arcturus Black, as well as the shocking threats against Lady Lestrange and Lady Adelaide by the lord of that family himself. Unspoken was the implication that the Riddle-Snape family knew that the Malfoys were harboring the female Lestranges.
Hermione had purposely not participated in the writing of that letter. She wanted to have a talk with Harry. She understood why Tom had not mentioned Harry’s mother’s captivity before their allies. The plight of a common-born "Mudblood" would not likely sway any of them, since it took everything they had to feel rapport with a noble one, and it would not endear Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy to any of them if Tom voiced his suspicion about why Lily Potter was a captive. But as bad as the idea was, Harry deserved to know. He was not a child anymore.
None of us are, Hermione thought sadly. She reflected on the innocence that she had still had when she first set foot in Parselhall four years ago, so eager to learn about magic, so entranced with the handsome young man she had just met who could do magic. Her parents—she stifled a sob and felt her throat grow hard at the memory—had had the same idea that she had about the two of them. As she passed by the library, she remembered that first time in it, when she and Tom had explored the hundreds—thousands—of magic books. It was new to him too at the time.
He told me about objects that could think for themselves, she suddenly recalled. That brought another lump to her throat, and she clutched the gold locket that dangled from her neck. It was warm to the touch and seemed to pulse faintly. Deep in her mind, she felt Tom’s presence—but that too was tinged with sadness. This should not be. Such a deed should not have been necessary.
We are not innocent anymore, she thought. She reached the personal quarters of Sirius Black’s family and knocked before entering. To her relief, Marlene Black and her young daughter were there. She had intended to leave the door open anyway, but it was still a bit risky to go into another young man’s quarters alone with so many noble guests present who might see and get the wrong idea.
Harry had a cot on the other side of the room, behind a privacy screen. He emerged from it and sat down in a chair next to Hermione.
"I need to tell you something," she said in a low voice. "Your mother... I don’t know if anyone has told you why Lucius Malfoy wanted her as a potionmaker...?"
Harry shook his head.
She took a deep breath. "I hate to have to tell you this... but you heard about Armand Malfoy and the unicorn blood."
"Oh no!" Harry exclaimed. He had instantly made the deduction.
"I’m afraid so," Hermione said. "Currently we think that Lestrange prepares the potion for him, and likely slaughters the creatures too, but if anything should happen to him—or perhaps even if it doesn’t, if Malfoy becomes displeased with Lucius—well, more displeased than he currently is—he might force Lucius to do it. And Lucius probably foresees that."
"That bastard can’t do that to my mother!" Harry hissed, keeping his voice low. "Why does Tom want to ally with them? Why do you?"
"Partly to save her! But what Tom said is true as well. We can’t defeat Armand Malfoy without knowing what object he has used to house part of his soul. He can’t die while he has that thing, Harry. That means that Lady Merope won’t awaken unless every member of her line dies first!" And what that means for Tom, I do not want to think, she thought with a shudder.
Harry was very displeased still, but he did not argue. "We have to save her," he muttered. "If Tom won’t try to get her out of that castle before Malfoy forces her to do that, I might just join Sirius."
Hermione gazed uneasily at him as she left the room.
As they awaited the Malfoys’ reply, Tom finalized his plans to retrieve the basilisk. With Hermione’s assistance, he composed a slimy, insincere epistle to Dumbledore thanking him for warding Charles Granger’s castle after the terrible murders. The implicit message, of course, was that Tom and Hermione—and Severus—knew all about his associations, and that he had best not make difficulties about the basilisk. The letter also referenced the difficulty of their noble ally Lord Black in acquiring an audience with the High Master.
We hope that there will be no such difficulties in obtaining the basilisk of Salazar Slytherin and removing it from the castle, especially since this is in accordance with your expressed wishes that the beast should be removed, Tom wrote. We have a practicable plan for transporting it and a secure location in which to store it, a site that is actually safer than its current chamber at Hogwarts.
Tom had discovered that, as Regent, he had access to the vault that held the dragon skeleton and the ancient Celtic altar. He was not sure how to feel about that. It was very convenient, of course; he was not sure where he would have put the basilisk otherwise. But at the same time, the reason that he had access was dreadful. Mother does not have to eat or drink, he thought as he left the place after confirming that he could get inside the blood ward. She is in a magical stasis that does not require any of the essentials of life except air... and this ward recognizes me as the lord. Does it not count Mother as alive? Tom knew that she was, but this was still disturbing, and it brought sad thoughts to his mind.
What will Mother think of what I’ve done? he thought, ascending the steps. He passed by the cell in the dungeons where he had killed Carrow and performed the Horcrux ritual. A shudder passed over him at the memory, and the all-consuming cold that he could keep at bay by thinking about his loved ones returned for a minute. Will she understand? I did it for the very reason that she seemed to think acceptable.
He reached the stairs that led to the ground floor and began to climb. It was a relief to enter the main living spaces of the castle once again. He passed by the small family parlor. The door was open, and Severus was holding the twins, murmuring to them in a low voice. Tom decided not to interrupt.
Hermione was waiting for him in their bedchamber, the locket of Slytherin around her neck. It was clearly something like a sacred object to her. She was red-faced, and Tom noticed streaks down her cheeks that could only be tear marks. She had been mourning her family again. It was only to be expected; the grief would be raw for a long time, but his compassion for her overwhelmed him. He got on the bed and pulled her close.
"I’m going to Hogwarts tomorrow," he said, holding her. "I can easily transfigure something into a cart for the basilisk and cover it with cloth that I’ve charmed to keep sounds from penetrating. That way, even bad luck on the roads—encountering a farmer who is taking chickens—won’t result in disaster. There are ships on the coast, and I can use magic to make one travel swiftly—and against the wind, if need be."
Hermione hugged him back. "I feel better about this than I thought I would," she said. "Part of it is that I know it’s necessary to have it, but I also know that the basilisk won’t kill you—and if you encounter any wizards who try, you have it as a weapon."
"Try to find out what you can from Hogsmeade," she urged. "I just cannot believe that Neville’s parents support what James Potter and the Weasleys want to do. He never said anything about them that would indicate that. Try to find out why they are doing this."
He considered for a moment. "All right. I will do my best."
Despite everything, despite the grief for her parents that continued to gnaw at the back of her mind, Hermione desired Tom very much. She felt odd about it, and a little guilty—was it right to feel desire, even for one’s spouse, soon after a tragedy? Her parents surely would understand... they would want her marriage to remain happy, and this definitely contributed.
Tom seemed to be struggling with much the same conflict, though for him, it was that his mother was in a coma. As soon as Hermione realized this, she embraced him fervently.
"They would understand," she murmured into his ear. "They would understand. We have to continue with our lives, and it may be several days before we see each other again. We should do this tonight."
He considered for a moment before breaking into a smile. He pulled her close for a kiss.
To attempt to keep the unpleasant business at hand out of his mind, Tom recalled the pleasant morning he had had with Hermione as he waited outside the gates of Hogsmeade. Almost immediately upon awakening, they had made love again—despite having done it the night before—and finally, after a filling breakfast, Tom had Apparated away to Scotland. He would not be able to Apparate back, unless this trip went badly and he failed to retrieve the basilisk.
If Dumbledore has somehow managed to kill it, he will regret it, Tom swore to himself. I cannot imagine how he could get into the Chamber of Slytherin, since Mother and I are the only Parselmouths—well, she does think that the twins are, but they can’t speak. But who knows what resources Dumbledore may have? If he has a way, he will use it. Tom fumed as he gazed up at the cloudy sky. He had to admit that he respected Dumbledore’s resourcefulness, but he did not respect its being used against him.
A witch and a wizard were finally approaching the gates. Tom made his best effort to put a pleasant expression on his face as they unlocked the gates and let him inside the village.
"Mayor Frank Longbottom," the wizard said. "This is my wife, Alice. We know who you are... Lord Thomas."
Tom scowled despite himself. "Then do you know why I am here?"
"The High Master told us that you planned to retrieve something from the castle."
"Yes," Tom said. "It’s something that belongs to my family." He gazed at them. "And I also have a few questions for you."
Longbottom bristled. "Let us go indoors for that. It looks like rain anyway. We will notify the High Master of your arrival, and he will admit you shortly, we think."
"That’s nice to know." Tom was unable to keep the snideness out of his voice as he accompanied the Longbottoms to their home.
He gazed around scornfully once inside—not because it was a small cottage, exactly; he would not have done so in the house of a friend, but because the Longbottoms were part of an organization engaging in questionable actions and he meant to put them ill at ease by any means. Without being invited, he took a seat in the largest chair in the room, well aware that it was likely Longbottom’s own chair.
The couple exchanged glances but did not say anything as they sat down. Tom gazed out imperiously at them. "Well," he said curtly, "we are indoors. Mayor Longbottom... where is your son? I expected to see him here."
"He is at the home of Arthur Weasley," Longbottom said, suspicion in his words.
"I see. He does fancy the Weasley girl, of course." Tom curled his fingers over the arms of the chair. "Now... my real questions. First, you were at Castle Grange a few days ago, the castle of my lady wife’s late parents, to cast wards to protect her cousin’s family. Why? How can you presume to do such a thing without telling her, knowing that she is a noble lady and your son is her friend?"
Longbottom drew back at the verbal attack. "I merely reinforced the wards that High Master Dumbledore cast," he said. "I should think that she would be grateful for the aid, given what had just happened to her parents!"
Alice Longbottom grimaced, clearly thinking it a very bad idea for her husband to challenge Riddle.
Tom felt a spark of anger for a moment, but then his face blossomed into a smirk. "Perhaps we both would," he said, "if not for the fact that Dumbledore took no interest in protecting her parents! The castle was warded before Lord Malfoy attacked, but it would have been better if he had added his protection. Why didn’t he?" Tom did not wait for them to respond. He leaned forward to make the kill. "Might it have to do with the fact that you and he are currying favor with the Muggle king, and the deaths of Muggles at the hands of wizards would further your agenda?"
Longbottom sputtered in protest. "Lord Thomas—you—"
Tom stared back impassively. "Do you deny it?"
"I certainly deny it!"
That surprised Tom. He attempted to catch the man’s gaze with own to perform Legilimency, but Longbottom seemed to know that he had the ability and would not allow himself to make eye contact. "What do you deny?" Tom finally said. "I know that you are part of the group called the "Friends of the Founders.’ You have worked with James Potter and the Weasleys, who have formed an alliance with the king-pretender. What, exactly, do you deny?"
"I deny that we let Lord and Lady Granger die. I deny that this alliance has anything to do with harming magical people."
"That may be your intention," Tom said coolly, "but your intentions mean nothing. If James Potter and the Weasleys go whinging to the king about Lord and Lady Granger—as if they cared anything about my wife’s family—what will happen is that magical people will be harmed." He stared at them. "I have been told that they intend to give him and his Muggle nobles an enormous amount of control over wizarding affairs. Do you not understand what this will mean for magic... and especially for witches? I don’t know what the king himself thinks, but do you not know why so many of his supporters back him? It’s because they don’t want his female cousin on the Muggle throne. Why are you part of this? Why is Dumbledore?"
Longbottom took a deep breath. "Lord Thomas... we are indeed quite aware of this. We know what Potter thinks, and what most of the Weasleys think, about women. We also know what the Weasleys think of magical people. They think Muggles need protection from witches and wizards, which is arguably true—"
Tom snorted in derision. "It is arguably false, as well. My own ancestors, the Celtic druids, led the Muggle chieftains of their clans well. The trouble in this island began with the filthy Romans and then the wizard Merlin, who poured poison into King Arthur’s mind against his own wizard son."
The Longbottoms exchanged looks. "With all due respect, Lord Thomas, I do not wish to argue with you on this. As you rightly say, the issue is debatable. My point is that the Weasleys think the debate is closed in favor of their view, and that this implies that magical people should be heavily restricted by Muggles. My wife and I don’t agree with that at all. Neither does Dumbledore."
"Then why are you part of it?"
"We have three reasons. One is to mitigate the Weasley influence, quite honestly. The second is that we think Stephen would provide the most political stability to the island. We are in Scotland, of course, but the Muggle monarch is a client king, so we are affected. Some of the English opposition to Stephen’s cousin is not due to her sex, but rather, because of her status as a foreigner, an outsider to their ways. And the third is that we are concerned about the long-term prospects of keeping ourselves—witches and wizards—too isolated from Muggles. If their customs change, but ours don’t, eventually there will be a dangerous degree of divergence. This could result in our being targeted harshly."
Tom shook his head. "To my thinking, that is an argument for us to influence Muggles, not the reverse. We should not meekly follow their lead if they are doing things that would harm our culture."
A knock sounded at the Longbottoms’ door. Mistress Longbottom rose from her chair to see to it. In a moment, she was back.
"High Master Dumbledore will see you, Lord Thomas," she said. She looked relieved.
Mayor Longbottom rose, relief etched on his face as well. Tom was sour and dissatisfied, but he could not actually detect any lies from the man. Grudgingly he made his farewells and met Dumbledore at the door.
The older wizard regarded Tom with faint disapproval. Tom wondered what that was about. Perhaps Dumbledore disapproved of him on principle.
"High Master," he said in clipped tones, "as you know, I am here to retrieve the basilisk of Slytherin, as my lady mother agreed months ago."
Dumbledore nodded as they began to walk the short distance to the great castle. "I received your letter."
He said nothing else until they were inside the castle itself. They stood in the Great Hall, regarding each other wordlessly, attempting to perform Legilimency on each other.
Finally Tom spoke, and his words and tone were harsh. "I spoke with the Longbottoms while I was in their house. I am quite certain that they will report the discussion to you, so I will pose the same questions to you while we are here."
Dumbledore waited, seemingly expecting this.
"First: Why did you not attempt to protect Lady Hermione’s parents, since you were clearly interested in protecting her cousin? Second: What are your intentions in informing the Muggle king of that attack, as my allies and I believe? And third: Why have you aligned yourself with the Weasleys and James Potter?" He glared at the High Master, his eyes flashing red, though he did not know it.
Dumbledore noted that and raised his eyebrows. "I may have some questions for you as well, Lord Thomas. But... I will answer you first. I did not add wards to the late Lord Granger’s castle because I did not think it necessary. Lord Malfoy did not attack them despite knowing of them for four years. I presumed that, if he intended it at all, he would be thwarted by the protection you and your lady mother had put on their castle. Indeed, I supposed that he might already have been thwarted. Once I saw that that was not the case—which unfortunately was only after the attack—I put up wards."
Tom’s nostrils flared in irritation, but this did make sense. Unfortunately, it also implied that their wards had been inferior—or at least, that Dumbledore believed them to be so. Malfoy and Lestrange did tear them down, he thought unhappily, but could they do that to Dumbledore’s wards too? I don’t want to find out. Even if that cousin is a magic-hater, his innocent wizard child does not deserve to die. And neither does the man himself, for that matter.
"As to your second question, I have not informed the king of the attack at all."
Tom scoffed. "Don’t play games with me, High Master. You do not have to do it yourself. Percival Weasley is a royal knight. You know this."
"Lord Thomas, do you think I can prevent a grown man from talking to his king if he wants to?"
"I think that if you disapprove of using another family’s tragedy for your own purposes, you could tell your allies that you don’t want it done. The question is, do you in fact disapprove?"
Dumbledore hedged. "I think it is not quite as simple a matter as that. The person who attacked is the High Lord of Wizards. The king should know about that. And the current Lord Granger is lord of that castle now, and he had no objection to His Majesty’s being informed. Is his word to be disregarded because a cousin did not know about it?"
"Your allies omitted an interesting fact from "the current Lord Granger,’" Tom said. "My allies later informed him that the people who so helpfully swore their support to him were wizards. He was not so keen on them after that." He glared at Dumbledore. "And this is all beside the point. The reason why Lady Hermione’s parents were attacked is that they were her parents. It had nothing to do with her cousin. She was the one who mattered, and your "Friends’ have displayed utter contempt for her." Tom forked an eye at Dumbledore. "And that leads to my third question. What do you intend to come of this alliance? You must understand what it could mean for wizards and witches—especially witches. What are you playing at?"
Dumbledore considered the questions seriously. "Lord Thomas, I will speak plainly."
"Good. I did not come here to hear lies."
"I do not agree with every view that James Potter and certain of the Weasleys hold," he admitted. "However, through the knighted son, they have His Majesty’s ear, and given that fact, I would prefer to have their ears than not. We made the alliance in the first place because the Muggle civil war was creating chaos in the country. Lord Malfoy would not likely have been able to do all that he has done if not for the fact that the Muggle crown is so weak and so much power has been diverted to the nobles. It is important for the country to become settled again."
Tom scowled. This was similar to what the Longbottoms said. Either they and Dumbledore had agreed upon these claims before his visit, or this really was what they all thought.
"I do not think it is in the interest of magical people for someone like Lord Malfoy to continue to rule," Dumbledore said. "His decision to exclude Muggle-borns from our society will eventually result in an untrained witch or wizard becoming a menace to the Muggles, by developing an Obscurus, or by an explosion of undirected magic. This would be the worst possible outcome, for that to be the way that most Muggles learn of magic."
"I agree with you about Lord Malfoy," Tom said gruffly, "but why support the Weasleys’ plan? Why did you not seek out an alliance with my family instead?"
Dumbledore eyed him skeptically. "Lord Thomas, your lady mother did not take any serious steps to concentrate her own power until very recently."
"She made alliances with five families—six, since the Greengrass family has an alliance with the Flints—and that happened two years ago."
"She made those alliances for her own protection. It is only very recently that your family gave any indication of challenging Lord Malfoy for his position."
"I made my intentions clear years ago."
"You were a pupil at the school." Dumbledore held up his hand as Tom began to protest. "Did you honestly think that anyone but your own school friends considered your royal claim as something that could possibly be pursued? Yes, I knew what you were talking about with them," he added as Tom flushed faintly. "It was not a serious effort, Lord Thomas. I recognize the fact that your actions now are serious, and that you seem to have attainable goals in mind... especially with your alliance with the House of Black... but it is rather late for me to abjure the allies I have."
"So you would ally with me if you did not think it dishonorable to break an oath?"
Dumbledore demurred. "I still think it best to influence the Weasleys."
"Frankly, High Master, you are not doing a very good job of influencing the Weasleys. They mean to give the Muggle king anything he asks for regarding our people, and he is certain to ask for heavy restrictions if they do give him such a slanted view of magic. They intend to give wizarding gold to foreign goblins, and the Weasley boys hold witches in contempt, just like the Muggles they admire. Lady Hermione overheard you in conversation with Professor McGonagall last winter." Dumbledore’s bright blue eyes widened at that, to Tom’s pleasure. "You seem to have no control over them at all," he said aggressively, "and based on that conversation, I will guess that it’s because you don’t believe they mean what they say about witches."
"Arthur Weasley is a kind man, and I have never known him to express disrespect for a witch."
"That may be, but he is apparently not the one in charge. The mother coddles her boys and speaks ill of her own sex, I’m told. When Malfoy made that law allowing wizards to put their wives under the Imperius Curse, the youngest son gloated that this was a great thing and that he wished his father would do it. This is what they think."
"That is appalling, and I do not agree with it."
"It is very similar to Muggle views about women," Tom pressed, "and that is not coincidental. I am sure that is where they got their views, since they admire Muggles so much and want to toady to a Muggle king at his court in exchange for power and wealth."