Involved
Rigel took a deep breath and looked back down at her notebook.
She was waiting just outside the perimeter of the wards of Hogwarts, concealed in layers of illusions so thick a wizard's best attempts to pin her down would most likely fail.
But it was most likely— not a complete guarantee —so she still concealed herself within the part of the forest that was out of the Hogwarts wards.
Needless to say, that made her distinctly uncomfortable.
But well, it wasn't said that Rigel Black had impeccable control for nothing.
She was waiting, waiting for the blood to heat in her veins, to urge her to get in there and announce her presence and become a part of Riddle's twisted games again, when it happened.
"Ssspeaker, " came a familiar hiss.
For a moment, everything seemed to fade. Rigel's head whipped down to see her beloved snake.
"Tressslider?" She hissed at him, "Isss that you?"
The illusions didn't ward against animals strongly enough, apparently.
"Who elssse can it be, Ssspeaker?" The snake said somewhat superiorly, then sniffed, "You left me here. Why? I missssssed you. Essspecially when it got cold. Isss—" the snake bore a look of concentration that passed as a frown, "Isss Ssspeaker crying? "
Rigel blinked back the moisture in her eyes, "No!"
The snake assessed her for a moment, before slowly slithering up her arm, "Tressslider forgivesss Ssspeaker. Ssspeaker can ssstop crying. "
Rigel shook her head, "Did you eat well?"
"Binny-elf gave Tressslider lotsss of mice," Treeslider said contentedly, "But Ssspeaker'sss mice are bessst. "
"Oh?" Rigel asked him, "Why?"
"Ssspeaker'sss offeringsss tassste like when a mother feedsss her young. Other offeringsss tassste of pity." The snake informed her.
Rigel stared at him for a moment, touched, before she came to herself.
"Thank you, for thossse wordsss," She told him, "But I can't take you now, Treessslider. I need to do a bunch of really dangerousss ssstuff right now."
The snake gave a movement that might have been a laugh, "Ssspeaker is alwaysss doing that. What isss different thisss time? "
"Hey!" Rigel said with an ironic smile, "That'sss not fair. I don't do dangerousss ssstuff all the time. It happensss to me!"
The snake gave what might have been a dry nod, and Rigel turned away, stifling a laugh.
Then his words caught up to her.
…when a mother feedsss her young…
Mother.
She'd only ever met Treeslider when she was Rigel. A boy.
At least, superficially. Her body had still been female. Could he— did he know?
"Treessslider—?"
He seemed to have guessed what was on her mind.
"It wasss but a comparissson, Ssspeaker."
Rigel swallowed, but moved on temporarily. She would have to adress this later, though. If there was any way Riddle could connect her to Harriet Potter, a girl, by just talking to the snakes here then—
She shook her head and told herself to calm down. She'd handle it.
For now, she had to focus on the award ceremony.
Rigel looked at her notebook once again, a transmitter where once she wrote the words confirming that she'd have to make an appearance, the others would start their plans.
Her blood hadn't heated yet, and nor was there any scarring.
There was a squeezing sort of feeling in her heart.
She… she was free.
Or… was she?
Rigel remembered her first thoughts when she found out about Riddle adding the award ceremony as a compulsory task .
Anger had come on the heels of panic. She'd thought, He was trying to invoke the Vow, trying to steal her victory—or at least give it a second edge.
He was trying to prove to the world that a halfblood couldn't win— not righteously.
Her not coming and claiming the prizes would just mean another was crowned: that it would seal in the public's eyes a different victor— one which ascertained their bigotry.
If Fleur won, they'd play the card saying she was technically a pureblood. And as for Owens… Rigel already had clues pointing to him being part of the Tournament's rigged system. There was no way Riddle didn't have a plan to do with him, too.
He hadn't submitted his ancestry papers, Rigel recalled.
Perhaps he's a pureblood pretending to be a muggleborn, she thought sadly, or a half-blood scion of an old line which Riddle will try and cover up. Merlin knows he did it for himself.
Regardless, the name, the 'symbol' as Dumbledore had put it, would dim if she didn't go.
But did she want to?
Was this her choice, to put herself at risk for some symbol to burn just a bit brighter?
What would Archie have said?
Archie shook his head. "When we started this, you could pretend it was for me, at least partially. Not anymore. I don't want this…but I'm starting to think you do."
"And what does Rigel want?
Harry frowned. She had not fully faced the question herself . "I…don't want to hurt this family any more than it has been. But I do want what they want for the world. I feel…responsible, still. Involved, as you said."
She had never considered herself altruistic, but there had been some truth to Riddle's words.
She'd do for others where she could for herself.
Riddle just had her reasons wrong.
She'd do it because they never had a chance to.
Not everyone had a pureblood cousin who would swap places with them, not everyone had filthy rich parents who could provide them their every need— and for all their faults, this was true about Lily and James —and not everyone had freakish magic and a whole load of coincidental things that made them seem special and socially worth it.
Nobody deserved to be treated the way she would have been had she not had all those things— or the way she would be despite having those things.
Nobody deserved that, so of course she had to go.
Or she'd have done nothing but play the system. Nothing but give up an opportunity people would die for— were dying for.
Treeslider's cool scales soothened as he went further up her arm, hidden well by her robes.
Rigel's grip on her pen tightened, and she ran her hand across the page once before writing, simply:
I'm going in.