The Cabin in the Woods
He-who-must-not-be-named, once kept a decrepit cabin in the depths of a forest. Only those who knew the way could avoid the enchantments that lingered in the fog even after he had abandoned his cabin years ago, fleeing after he failed to kill an infant.
They were quite an unusual group. The first man wore all black and crept along the forest floor, with greasy hair that hung in thick clumps around his long hooked nose. He was shadowed by a tall elderly man, but only one in their company made any noise at all as they stole around bushes and dodged tree roots that threatened to grab hold of their traveling cloaks.
“Are we nearly there, Albus? I can’t trust this damned traitor as far as I could throw ‘im.”
“We are nearly there, the Dark Lord hid this cabin so that no one- not even his followers could apparate directly inside the boundary.” The man in front said. Severus Snape had visited the cabin once, a few months after he had pledged allegiance to the Dark Lord and became a marked Death Eater.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Severus!”
“That’s enough Alastor, we are all on the same side here.” Albus said, his voice held a faint weariness, as if the two men were prone to bickering and he was often the one to referee them.
Alastor huffed, letting his knobbly staff whack into a tree trunk letting the echo of wood voice his displeasure of being in the company of such a man as Severus Snape. Severus was an ex Death Eater, turned spy at the last moment, only avoiding persecution by Albus Dumbledore vouching for his character.
“There- in the clearing.”
And there it was, something that did not adhere to you-know-who’s reputation for Victorian mansions and comfortable luxury he obtained from his mostly wealthy followers. A rotting cabin, with overgrown flower beds that looked like they had been left untouched since before any of the men had been born.
“I told you Albus- this is some kind of trap-”
“How can this be a trap if we’re walking willingly into it?” Albus asked as they passed through the remaining trees and into a clearing scarce big enough for the cabin it held.
Severus went straight to the door, but did not touch the handle to open it. Instead he lifted his left sleeve, rolling it to his elbow revealing a faded tattoo of a snake slithering in and out of a human skull and presented it to the door.
Nothing happened for a moment.
“Someone’s coming to greet us.” Severus said calmly to the company.
“Another Death Eater?” Alastor grunted in alarm as he drew himself and his wand up.
“Not exactly.” Severus drawled and he watched the door carefully when a small thunk sounded from inside the door. When the door cracked open, the two men looked down in alarm when a large bulging eye popped into view.
“Merlin’s beard, just how old is that house elf?” Alastor asked sharply and the house elf made to slam the door in their faces- but Albus slipped his hand into the crack before the door closed.
“I’m afraid this may be terribly rude of us, but may we invite ourselves in?”
“No! Sirs must go! Ziggy’s master returns soon!” The House elf tried to shut the door on Albus’ fingers. But the old man showed no signs of discomfort when he pushed the door open ever so gently as not to hurt the frail house-elf throwing herself against the door in order to shut it.
“‘Scuse us.” Alastor said as all three men waltzed into the threshold.
It looked much more luxurious on the inside, though anything over a few feet was covered in a layer of dust, and upon closer inspection every piece of furniture appeared patchy and worn.
“N-No please! Get them out sir! They is not allowed!” The house elf turned to Severus, clutching onto his robes and banging her knees into the floor.
“Your Master disappeared several years ago, there’s no use waiting for him any longer.” Albus said calmly.
“T-that changes nothing! Sirs lie! Go- Go away!”
“The Dark Lord fell, Ziggy. What did he order you to protect?” Severus asked, he was scanning the room with his wand.
“You mean you don’t even know what we’re looking for?” Alastor fell into an armchair despite the little house-elf’s protests.
“Your name is Ziggy?” Albus asked. She looked up with great alarm and fell backwards towards the chair Alastor had planted himself in.
“There’s something fishy with that mirror, Severus.” Alastor said, watching the house elf scramble to try and kick these men out.
Severus turned away from the vase he had been carefully surveying.
“It is a rather curious place to put a mirror.” Albus said lightly, gliding over to it.
“NO! Sirs must not- '' Ziggy had apparated in front of the mirror, now standing on an ornate mantle place that held a strange mirror in a tarnished green copper. Bearing snakes like most of the finery boasted, there was also flora and fauna of all kinds carved into the copper.
“Step aside, I’ve got it.” Alastor hiked up his trousers.
He ignored the elf’s begging to stop, and dodged around her to set the end of his staff onto the mirror. The Mirror vibrated in response.
“That’s enough! Down with you!” Alastor grabbed Ziggy by the back of her dingy dress and sat her down roughly on the sofa by the fireplace.
“Do you really think he has a weapon locked inside this Mirror?” Albus asked, gliding his hands over the silver of the mirror, “It doesn’t hold a reflection to anything, or anyone in this room.”
Alastor went back to his staff that was stuck to the mirror in midair.
“It's warm to the touch.”
“You don’t reckon there’s something alive in there do you?” Alastor looked at both of the men.
“Most Definitely.”
“The Dark Lord only ever described it as a curse. I never thought to ask what form it took.” Severus said. His long pale fingers traced over a line of petals, and they fell, flaking onto the mantle piece, “Should we attempt to unlock its secrets, or should we get the matter over with and destroy it?”
“And risk bringing this curse onto ourselves?” Alastor shook his head, his glass eye whirring around frantically before resting once more unto the mirror.
“I believe Severus is right, step back-” The two men obeyed immediately, Severus retreated to stand between Ziggy and the fire place: she had been sobbing into a pillow this entire time, and Alastor pulled his staff off of the mirror with a suction like thuk.
“Very good-” The old man whipped his wand arm over his like a lasso and on the third loop a golden flash of light shot out of his wand and hit the mirror’s glass with a deafening crack bounced off and hit the wall beside him.
“It was worth a try wasn’t it?” Albus sounded almost dreamy, looking intensely at the mirror as if this were simply another puzzle for him to solve.
“Sirs… please stop- Zi-ziggy’s mistress! You will not harm Ziggy’s mistress…. you will not!”
“Mistress?” Severus swooped down so that his hooked nose was only inches from the blubbering house-elf. When Ziggy realized that she had let something secret slip she threw herself to the floor in a fit of panic, but she did not strike herself or thump her fists against the floor- she cowered with her arms over her head, with heavy sobs that wracked her body to the bone.
“Miss Ziggy, is there a woman locked inside this mirror?” Albus looked down at her through his spectacles.
“Please sirs, no more- bother Ziggy no more!”
“Miss Ziggy, Voldemort-” Ziggy let out a terrified screech and tried to shimmy under the sofa, “Is gone, he was defeated on the last day of October three years ago. Therefore, your Mistress is the last of the House you serve. Wouldn’t it be prudent to ensure your Mistress is well?”
Ziggy stopped her wailing, and peeked out from under the sofa, the cogs turning in her mind.
“The Dark Lord has gone?” The tears did not stop, but they slowed as she cut her eyes to Severus. When he gave her a curt nod she shuddered.
“How do we open the damned mirror?” Alastor spat.
“Only Master can- Ziggy cannot say.” But Ziggy got out from under the sofa, and shuffled to the fireplace. The three men watched her wring her fingers wincing as she neared the mirror.
She pulled a stool over to step up onto. And stood on tiptoe to reach the bottom right hand corner of the mirror, and hissed.
“Parseltongue.” Albus came up behind Ziggy, motioning for the other two to stand back.
The mirror swung open as if on hinges leaving its frame in place, and Albus gasped in quiet horror when a small girl in a Victorian style dress was revealed, curled up on her side, facing away from them.
“F-father?” The girl asked timidly before looking weakly over her shoulder, “Ziggy?” She asked in alarm when she spotted Albus.
“Here Miss! Ziggy is here!” The house elf cried and the girl slowly peered out of her frame and down to Ziggy.
“Am..am I allowed out now?” The girl was now sitting up, and all three men could see her clearly. Though Voldemort had lost some of his more humanesque features, anyone who had seen him in person could see that there were similarities to the two.
But to Albus Dumbledore, who had known Voldemort since he was Tom Riddle, he could see it quite clearly. From the texture and color of her hair, to her cheekbones and jawline, the only difference was her shockingly blue eyes.
“Dear god, it's a child.”
Ziggy offered her hand to the child and Albus took a step back, and watched in quiet disbelief as the girl carefully climbed to the floor.
“So…” The girl smoothed out her skirts on wobbly legs, and quietly judged the people before her; a single question lingered in the silence that followed.
Albus Dumbledore came to his senses first.
“My name is Albus Dumbledore, dear child please tell me, what is your name?”
“My name?” She asked, and she looked to the house elf for some sign of permission.
“Go on, Miss.”
“My name is,” She took a quick breath and furrowed her brows together, “Notte Merope Riddle, heir-” Her eyes darted to Ziggy.
“Heiress.”
“Heiress to the Dark Lord, and the last…um-”
“To the blood, miss.’’
“To the blood of Slytherin.” Notte Riddle looked rather pleased with herself, she had after all, very nearly remembered the entirety of her introduction her father had written for her.
“She can’t be older than four-” Severus said, looking back and forth between the girl and Dumbledore.
“I’m nearly five, Ziggy said so.” The men gave her a fleeting glance.
“When in seven hells did he have the time to-” Alastor lowered his voice, “Have the time to procreate?!”
“I haven’t the faintest clue.” Dumbledore said breathlessly.
“Ziggy’s Miss was born February 28th, 1968.” Ziggy said, wringing her knobbly fingers around a ribbon tying her ragged dress to her body. She seemed to be aware of the shock this would bring to the men, as she did not look up before she continued, “The Dark Lord cursed this place- Ziggy and Miss, they must stay here until Master returns.”
“Tom managed to enchant this place so that neither of you would age a day from your first step inside. No doubt he was looking for a way to stay ageless for himself…” Dumbledore’s hand glided through the air, and he winced from some unknown pain.
“Professor?” Severus was at his side in an instant.
“It was of little matter to get inside, but I’m afraid it will be of great consequence to leave.” Albus looked down at the little girl who had sat herself down on the little step stool in front of the fireplace.
It was all too familiar to him, the feeling of being looked through, rather than at.
“You aren’t my father’s followers, are you?”
“No, we aren’t.” Dumbledore clasped his hands together and leaned forward to look into her eyes, “Does that frighten you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you understand what I mean when I say your father is gone?” He asked her, and her lips pursed together as she nodded slowly.
“He said that- that he couldn’t die though. Was he lying?”
“I’m afraid I do not know that. Only that he is gone.”
“Don’t tell me you’re planning on taking those two out? They’d be better off staying put, if word got out- what’s left of the death eaters would scoop up the little one and crown himself the King of Terror or some rubbish.” Alastor started to pace across the room, “He called her a weapon-”
“Alastor, that is quite enough.”
“Professor he does have a point,” Severus looked down his nose at the girl below him, “Even I don’t know what she may be capable of.”
“I’m sure she will be capable of many things, once she is older and wiser.” Dumbledore’s words had a tone of finality.
“Ziggy, are we leaving?” Notte asked, her curls falling away from her face as she looked up at the house elf, who had gone from silently wringing her hands to pulling and tugging at her bat-like ears. Ziggy stopped at once, and looked hopelessly around the room.
“It's not up to Miss Ziggy, your Father is gone so Miss Ziggy is now yours. And therefore, you can decide on what you would like to do now.” Dumbledore gestured to the front door of the cabin, “Whether you would like to come with us, or whether you would prefer to stay.”
“What's out there? The men in masks?”
“No, there’s a school I would like you to visit, your father once went there, and I think he quite enjoyed himself in his time there.” Dumbledore said, and Notte seemed hesitant, but she stood up, letting her skirts sway before settling to bounce against her knees as she walked towards Dumbledore.
“Hogwarts?”
“I see you’ve heard of it.”
“He said it was a huge castle, fit for a princess- is it?” Notte looked at Ziggy who smiled weakly at the young girl's fantasy.
“Miss likes to pretend- princesses, pirates, swordsmans- passes the time.”
“That's lovely, but this isn’t a fairytale, now is it?” Alastor stomped his staff against the floor and the cabin shook.
“It's fine for children to dream, and even old men like myself dream now and again.” Dumbledore looked around the cabin, “But I’m sure a lady such as yourself would quite like to see a castle in real life.”
“Oh yes!” Notte turned around to Ziggy, “Please Ziggy, you hate it here… I know you do.”
“M-miss! No! Ziggy is happy anywhere, if Ziggy’s Miss is there!”
“What a happy ending.” Alastor said and he limped towards the door. “Now how do you suppose we escape this ruddy tower?”