Chapter 10
“Though resolute you may
Pretend to be inside your walls,
The people will soon realize
That your feeble body can’t forestall,
The evitable end that we all will one day meet.
You are human, you are dying.
Yes, I know,
It’s bittersweet.”
-- The Court Jester, thquib.
.XoX.
Tom arrives in the hands of Marvolo that evening. There is lots to think about. Lots to do. And lots to hide.
He begins the conversation with a handful of goals in mind. First; figure out the location of the other horcruxes and how many, exactly, exist as of this moment. His knowledge of that is expired. It is time to renew it.
He wishes also to confirm an aching suspicion he has of Marvolo himself. (There is no child to tell about.) This will be the easiest. This answer is inherent.
And… For Harry, he will figure out the source of Marvolo’s fascination with him. Voldemort does not lie for no reason.
Tom begins: Hello there, Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Why, Marvolo writes, I could say the same to you.
You know what I am, then?
I’d be stupid not to. Tom thinks he’d be stupid either way. But he is aware that he was not asking for an opinion, so he doesn’t say that.
I live, writes Tom. It is the wrong word for the state he is in now -- a life for a life and he has yet to take one -- but he also does not know the right one. Did you know that, too?
We were unaware of the condition of the first horcrux, answers Marvolo. We had assumed you worse for wear. But it is apparent you are fine.
We? asks Tom, but he recognizes the wording. The handwriting, the arrogance, the magic. There is nothing unfamiliar here.
Voldemort and I. You know what I am, then?
I, writes Tom, have had some theories. And right now, they are all being confirmed.
I am the locket.
Not the ring, which Voldemort had told Tom of. There are at least three in total. Tom suspects there are more. When someone goes that far… why, there is hardly any going back, let alone stopping.
Going by Marvolo, huh? Not Tom or Voldemort. I suppose we have always liked that distinction. Tom continues, A horcrux in far better condition than I, I hope. He doesn’t, actually. But it is better to lie when you want information. Some things he will never outgrow.
Of course. Voldemort has held me close over the years and wherever a plot presented itself in which I was needed, we took the opportunity.
Something similar happened to me. This situation is familiar. These days, Tom is living in a partial state of deja vu.
Similar, yes. But not the same.
Yeah? What was the difference, Marvolo?
I succeeded, says Marvolo simply. You did not.
Yes, writes Tom. And succeeding matters SOOO much -- more than anything, more than one of the ties to your immortality. What good is one diary when you have a locket, a ring? Of what VALUE is it?
Tom remembers what he said to Harry and feels it sink deeper into his bones. This is a small sin tacked onto a long list of many. There is no use to his anger if he wields it like Voldemort.
He seals himself in sanity (because he knows what insanity can do to you) (because he is not Voldemort), and continues, Upon my failure, you did not retrieve me from the Potter household. I only wonder why.
Your failure -- Tom notes he loves to speak as if he and Voldemort are one and loves to forget that he and Tom are, too. This failure is not singular. This failure was shared -- was not predicted. Things were considered and plan Bs were made and under well. There was no room to retrieve you.
There was no room to retrieve him? His own soul? No. VHe means they did not make room, did not see the reason to. It means it was Voldemort’s specialties, all wrapped up in one. It was apathy and it was cruelty. From a man like him, it is not at all unexpected.
They (and here and only here is Tom okay with the plurality of the situation, does Tom celebrate it) will burn for this. The locket, the ring, the diary, the main self. Those undiscovered. Every. Last. One.
Self and collective destruction is soothing so when Marvolo notes, Your magic seems stronger. Who are you draining? Tom is able to reply to him instead of insult him.
I got myself sent to the Headmaster of Beauxbatons, says Tom. It was not a fruitful endeavor, truth be told. I was snuffed out rather quickly. In less than two conversations, actually. He got her name and then he got sent home.
Ah, yes, writes Marvolo. Mouton. She is quite the character. Connected to the right people, too. It is a pity you chose so incorrectly.
Things slip together for Tom. He knows that Harry was investigating the Butterflies’ cult leader, their pseudo CEO. And Tom knows that not long afterwards, he was sent to Mouton. She, then, or her organization, are connected to the right people -- the few that would know about the horcruxes.
Though the list he draws up of who those people could be is short, it is also outdated. Tom will not be so arrogant to assume otherwise.
So, writes Tom, is apparent.
And yet… and now Tom does not as much sense suspicion as he is drowning in it. She sent you back. You must have got out of the Potter’s house somehow -- and whoever that is had sent you to her, and, now, to me. Or am I incorrect to assume that?
You’re smart, you know that? And Tom’s fucked.
Of course. The flippantry is repulsive. So someone sent you to her and she sent you back. That’s curious, Tom.
Curious. The word rings a bell. As a boy, young, eleven, setting his first step into the world of magic. He is purchasing a wand. “Curious,” the wandmaker had said, “that you should share a wand core with someone so close in age with you, yes. A little boy came in here only a moment ago and matched with a phoenix feather of the same bird, yes, yes, how curious…”
The word rings a bell for Tom and so it must as well for Marvolo, even if he does not realize it. Tom and Voldemort are not the same but (they are similar) you cannot separate the chicken from the egg.
Unlike Tom, Marvolo is not one to dwell on it: Curious that you weren’t destroyed the moment she saw you and, subsequently, knew what you were.
Yes, well. The person who sent me here is connected to all the right people, too. Harry and the Butterflies’ letters, their gifts, their admiration. If Mouton saw it was sent by Harry -- and Tom has every reason to believe it was -- then of course. Of course she would not be so quick to destroy it.
To send it back to Harry, knowing that horcruxes do nothing but hurt people, is in character. She is not the only person helping sick people get sicker.
‘The person who sent you here’, notes Marvolo. I admit, your vagueness is intriguing. Why are you hesitant to say their name?
I’m not hesitant, says Tom. I am wary.
That is the same thing, Tom.
One is born of cowardliness. The other, wisdom. Try again and tell me that those are not different.
What do you have to be wary of? We are one.
Tom tries to act like that is not the stupidest fucking thing he was ever heard. Like that means anything to him. Like being one stopped him from years of self isolation and unnerving solitude. I know that, throughout the years, we have killed in things other than necessity. Power plays. Control. To insight fear. I am wary because we -- and it hurts to write that, to put we instead of YOU -- might do it again.
Marvolo does not deny it. And if we did? If because they disgrace you or you overvalue them? What hurry do you have to get back to them?
Mouton was lackluster in gathering magic, answers Tom, because he knows an answer like ‘needlessly killing people is wrong’ would not work with him. It never has before. I was with her less than 48 hours before I was sent away. But getting her magic was not in my original plan.
I see. You’re draining magic from the unnamed fellow? The one that sent you to her and to me?
I have been. Since the moment I met them. A few weeks now. He is sad to say he is not lying. He is still not truthful with harry. But he is working on it. Change is a process and he cannot rush through it.
Then I fear I am confused, says Marvolo. They should be dead. There should be nothing to hurry back to.
It is a funny thing. They have so much magic, it is difficult to drain it all. They must be kept alive for a while longer. I need the rest of their magic and that takes, Marvolo, time. Privately, Tom doesn’t think this will happen. In order to have a form of his own, an official life, he needs to take someone else’s. To do this, he needs ALL of their magic. But Harry has a seemingly infinite amount of that. Tom will never take his life and, at this point, he does not want to. It requires, also, for you not to kill them.
Marvolo considers this. How long do you suspect it will take?
A few weeks more. Voldemort does not lie for no reason (and Tom is not Voldemort) (but they are similar) (but you cannot separate the chicken from the egg.)
When you are finished, find me. The password to Slytherin is Twenty Eight.
As in the sacred twenty-eight. Of course. Bigotry is sometimes engraved in even the most basic of way. Alright.
Did you have any reason to ask to be sent to me? Or did you just wish to inform our main self that you live on?
I need to be updated on our plans. He needs to work to change them. He would ask that Voldemort remove his horcruxes from their vessels, their enteral imprisonment, everlasting torture -- but he plans to do that himself in a different way. My owner mentioned in passing a war. Are we the cause of it? Are we progressing well?
War is too strong a word. Since… oh, 1966 or so, after years of gathering our forces and fighting for our means peacefully, we started using violence as a tool for our cause.
1966… Twelve years, then, since he was sentenced to the diary. Twelve years of being politically violent before getting violent violent. Tom can only be surprised he waited so long. Who are our enemies? My owner mentioned, too, a man named Gellert, also using violent means to achieve an end.
Perhaps we should wait to disclose information when you have a physical form, Tom. This is a way of closing down the conversation, and it is far from subtle. Gellert is a sore spot. He will keep that in mind. Perhaps he’ll even tell Harry, let him use that as he will. Any other questions?
I suppose, he writes. I worry for Voldemort's safety. How many horcruxes has he created? Three, yes, but how many more? How long will his hit list be?
He tries to be careful here, but there is no avoiding landmines when the topic at hand is paved with them.
The creation of horcruxes has not been detrimental to Voldemort’s health. It is said defensively.
Not what I was asking. But also telling. A wraith of himself is what Voldemort be now, from the sound of it. What a wonderful image. It would be beneficial for me to know about them in order to protect them.
It will be, writes Marvolo. It is not now.
Alright. Alright. Damn it. Damn it! Okay. Fine. Whatever. He can figure this out on his own -- that was the plan from the start, anyway. The location of the horcruxes are not out of reach. They are just pushed back. It is okay. He can get other, somewhat less vital information from Marvolo. One last question.
I am not sure how helpful I can be for you, with your current state, but do ask away. Oh, and now he is being condescending? Now he is being bitter, like he has any right to?
I’ve heard you've been cappin’ at Hogwarts.
Pardon?
Lying. Curse Harry for his infectious Muggle slang.
About what? asks Marvolo, insinuating there is not one lie circulating but many. Impressive, considering he’s only been here a little over a week.
A marriage contract.
Oh. I see. It’s true I am telling people I am engaged to one Harry Potter, if that is what you’re referring to.
May I ask why? For Harry. So he can undermine you while I undermine you. So I can further ruin your fucking life.
The better question is; why do you know that?
It’s not the better question. It’s not even a fucking question. You’ve not exactly been subtle about it, Marvolo. The whole school has heard about your engagement at this rate, I’m sure.
Not that, says Marvolo. Why do you know I’m lying?
Tom catches onto his suspicion. Harry Potter reportedly had an outburst during the--
And you believe him over me?
Yes, actually. Every time. We are not big on romantic attraction.
So your assumption is that I would not get married at all? Not that, if I did, it would be for alternative reasons?
I did not think of it like that, Tom tries but he knows it is already too late. He put one foot out of line and now his whole body is over.
The owner of the diary, then, is Harry Potter.
You really are sharp, aren’t you. God fucking damnit. What worth is it denying it? Marvolo speaks like a man who has it all figured out and the real fucked up thing is that, sometimes, he does.
It seems also you’ve dulled over time, Tom. You’ve lost your edge.
So it seems. Over time, Marvolo will lose his presumed everlasting life, but you don’t see Tom gloating about it, do you?
Worry not, though, Tom. I have no plans to harm our dearest Harry. He is to be my hubby, after all. The instant change in tone is both nauseating and insulting.
Why do you insist on lying?
Well, Tom. Who says I am lying?
Literally you.
Touche.
So, writes Tom, do you WANT to marry him? Is that it? To engage in a romance with a 15 year old is not the likely reason Voldemort would pull the locket from its slumber. Not likely, but not impossible. And also incredibly fucked up. Tom would put nothing past him.
Something like that. Even more so fucked up is that he did not deny it. But he did not confirm it, either. And Tom thinks this is only to belittle him. Tom wouldn’t put that past him, either. Why? Hasn’t Voldemort mentioned?
No, Marvolo, snarls Tom. You KNOW it’s a no. It is a nod to the fact that they left Tom, abandoned, trapped, alone for decades. It is a nod to the fact that Tom failed. And this offensive front is not without purpose; this, too, has struck a chord. You are just being mean.
Maybe, Marvolo admits.
It doesn't matter whether or not you want to marry Harry -- Harry doesn’t want to marry you.Though Tom doubts what Harry wants is exactly relevant. The dates of Tom getting sent off and Harry’s arranged marriages are too close. And here, another suspicion is being born. Marvolo wanting to marry Harry and Marvolo not being able to. There’s a connection here. Somewhere. And Tom intends to find it. Harry’s set to be wed to Luna Lovegood. And, at any rate, he’s to be emancipated. So even if you plan to get into even an arranged marriage with him, it would be wise to think again.
He’s to be emancipated? Writes Marvolo. It comes off as mocking and Tom... Tom does not like that. Not at any rate I know of.
Whatever do you mean?
I hear a lot about our dearest Harry, if I care to ask. And I do.
Tom doesn’t doubt it. It is insane what being supposedly related to a Dark Lord can do for you. A lot? Such as?
Such as the fact that he is not the most mentally nor physically healthy boy on the planet.
Ah, yes. His ENDOS. Harry hasn’t been exactly subtle about that, either. Tom’s heart aches for him. Your point?
My point is that the criteria for emancipation have changed drastically since your time. This is mocking, too. Your information is expired. You are outdated. You have failed and therefore are a failure.
Changed to what? he asks but… a part of Tom already knows. A part of Tom thinks it is a stupid question to ask.
Changed to include that you must prove you are of right mind and able to take care of yourself on your own, physically and mentally. As he is, he can’t do that.
Marvolo could be lying. For any reason, really, even if it’s stupid. He has lied before and is currently lying about Harry -- so why, pray tell, would he not be lying again, now?
But.
And, yes. There is always a but. Because something about this screams the way Tom tells the truth. (You cannot separate the chicken from the egg.) Something about this tells Tom that Marvolo lies. He lies a lot. But not now. Not about this.
Send me back to him, Tom writes. Will you?
Now? Why, our conversation was just getting good.
It wasn’t. He knows it wasn’t. Is that a no?
Alright, alright. I’ll send you off. But do keep one thing in mind, Tom?
What is that, Marvolo?
Don’t get attached.
Of course, lies Tom. We are better than that.
.XoX.
“Oh, I’m in love with Venus
Yeah, I’m over the moon
When the rain is pelting you,
And the static tends to deafen
Raise your voice and raise your heart
Cause our healing; that’s our weapon.”
-- Harry Potter, “Four of Wands.”