Chapter 75: CH75 - Familiar Yet Foreign
§Serpensortia!§
The first of the serpents that Marvolo summoned was the Ashwinder. With a thin, gray appearance and blood-red eyes, the creature lived up to its name entirely. Ashwinders were birthed from the embers of magical fires that had been allowed to burn unchecked. Their sole purpose during their short one-hour lifespan was to find an adequate spot to lay their eggs, after which they collapsed into dust.
Leaving these eggs' tremendous monetary and potions-based ingredient value aside, Ashwinders themselves tended to be rather hated. Almost every wizarding home had a Floo system installed, which meant each one was a possible breeding ground for these deadly beings. If left undiscovered, these snakes could incinerate a magical dwelling down to 'ash' in minutes.
"So... possible uses?" the dark lord questioned as a floating handkerchief mopped up the beads of sweat dripping from his face because of the heat from the flames.
"They're common," Edmund began after using a scouring charm on himself. "If a situation were manipulated right, the presence of an Ashwinder wouldn't seem out of place. In fact, it would serve as a logical explanation for an otherwise vile deed, such as a coverup for arson. Since it doesn't need to hide its traces after the fact either, it can be used boldly. Although, their best qualities shine when they are given little time to work."
"Well put," Marvolo agreed. "When the Death Eaters were more of a clandestine organization during the early days of my rise, Ashwinders were sometimes used by us as a silent form of assassination. The wards on a house would first have to be disabled without alerting their owners, of course, which proved to be more difficult in some cases than others. But once that was accomplished, all that needed to be done was to start a Floo fire and wait... The trick worked better in houses with small children, where the Floo being left on would seem more plausible. Regardless, the Aurors would arrive an hour later to find the house aflame and its inhabitants dead."
Edmund nodded in understanding, using his occlumency to keep his grimace from the thought of the gruesome death at bay.
"Onwards!" the dark lord beckoned him.
The next serpent to appear was a Runespoor, which looked significantly more magical at first glance. It was an African snake with vibrant black-and-orange markings patterned down its length. Six feet long at minimum, the beast was fierce-looking, with three separate heads sprouting from its neck.
However, for a parselmouth who could understand their speech?
Well...
§Okay! We're in a new place again! We need to get to work! First, we need to find a place for a nest, preferably in a cool and damp environment! Next, we find the essentials: water and food! Water will be tough, but I can smell a rodent not too far from here! After that—§ the left head began to rant immediately.
§Wow... that sounds really nice. But? Aren't we in a safe new place? Let's go to sleep... Ahhhhh... I bet we'll have beautiful dreams here. I can feel it!§ the middle head cut in without listening.
§Useless! Both of you are absolutely useless. Why am I stuck with you? The first one keeps planning but never does any work, and the second is a lazy sack of shit!§ the right head cursed angrily.
Each head of a Runespoor had a different personality, as distinct as night and day. The left head was the planner, in charge of the trio's future movements and actions. The middle head was the dreamer, often responsible for the serpent remaining stationary for days at a time, lost in glorious visions and imaginings. The right head was the critic, constantly evaluating the efforts of the left and middle heads with a continual irritable hissing.
§Oh, fuck off! And what exactly do you contribute to this team?§ the left head spat in disdain.
§Yeah! Don't be such a negative Nancy!§ the middle head—pouted?—in agreement.
Edmund looked at it with bewilderment, his mouth agape. 'How does it even know what that is?'
Voldemort dismissed the creature with a cough. "It is not uncommon to see Runespoors with the right head missing, as the other two heads often band together to bite it off," he explained while scratching his head. "As such, it rarely lives to a great age."
"Well, uh, I'm not sure what the Runespoor would be good for other than intimidation," Edmund said after a moment.
Marvolo sighed. "You're not wrong. The right head is venomous, but it isn't worth the hassle. If you ever need to show off your power, it's a nice trick. But otherwise? Leave the Runespoor alone, hmm?"
Edmund moved his neck up and down quickly in assent.
"Lastly!" the dark lord motioned him to repeat the spell.
A plumed, two-legged winged creature with a serpentine body sprouted from the end of his wand, extending to a length of approximately fifteen feet. With purple hair and teal feathers, it was unmistakable for any other beast.
"An Occamy," Edmund breathed out.
"Yes," Marvolo muttered, even as he struggled to keep the creature in line without seriously harming it. "Occamies are aggressive to all who approach them, which means their nature is particularly useful on the battlefield. However, they have few predators, and their prey consists of small rats and birds. Hence, they are not all that dangerous. The true reason I find myself interested in them is their unique property: Occamies are choranaptyxic."
"Choranaptyxic?" Edmund mulled over the foreign word. "I've never heard of that."
"I would be surprised if you had," the dark lord chuckled as he finally unsummoned the beast. "It was a term coined by Newt Scamander not all that long ago. A creature being choranaptyxic means that it can grow or shrink to fit the space available to it."
"Like a moke," Edmund murmured.
"Exactly. I hope that with enough training, I can use Occamies as a wall for instances in which I am being barraged by otherwise non-shieldable curses, such as the Unforgiveables. I could transfigure a wall instead, but that is much more power-intensive in comparison," Voldemort summarized.
"Something like that is a long way away for me," Edmund deduced.
Marvolo hummed. "True. But it's better to see it sooner than later."
"Thank you," Edmund said sincerely. "I know there are better things you could be doing with your time."
"Less than you think," the dark lord huffed. "Besides, it does not matter. You are a Slytherin."
As if that explained everything.
'I guess it does,' Edmund thought to himself.
*-*-*-*
- (Scene Break) -
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As Marvolo and Edmund panted because of the magical exertion they had put themselves through, they sank into the plush couches in the Slytherin library.
They were utterly filthy. Sweat trickled from their bodies through soot-laden robes, charred and torn in several places. The pair had undoubtedly left a trail of dirt and ash in their wake, but cleaning was a problem for the future. For now, it was the farthest thing from their minds.
Edmund closed his eyes, wriggling around to get into a more comfortable position.
*Clink, clink,* came the sound of something metallic softly tapping against the glass table between their two chairs.
'This is the life,' Edmund thought contentedly.
*Clink, clink.*
'Practicing magic. Resting. Doing it all over again. The feeling of progress. Of growth. It's addictive,' he mused for the millionth time.
*Clink, clink.*
'It's all thanks to Marvolo,' Edmund admitted. 'I suppose it worked out well in the end. If I hadn't defeated Moros when I did, I would be sitting twiddling my thumbs this entire summer. Instead, I've got all this...'
*Clink, clink.*
Edmund cracked open his right eye to see what the sound was being generated by. The sight before him forced him to clamp down on his emotions, his teeth clenching painfully from the effort needed to keep his face still.
For in Marvalo's hand, between his thumb and his index finger, was a rather recognizable ring. A plain silver band was fitted with a black stone octahedron. On its very topmost face, an ancient etching was visible.
A circle, line, and triangle combined.
The sign of the Deathly Hallows.
'The Ressurection Stone,' Edmund's heart began to beat faster and faster. 'And also the dark lord's second horcrux.'
'Stupid, stupid, stupid! If Voldemort knew that Dumbledore had discovered the secret of his diary, of course, he would move his soul tethers into more secure locations!' he berated himself for not thinking of the possibility sooner.
'But... wait... Why am I not feeling any malicious aura from the ring? Its influence even managed to make Dumbledore capitulate to it. Yet, I feel no overt sense of danger, no sense of a threat... It's almost like... It's almost like it's not a horcrux at all,' Edmund shuddered.
'The game is changing,' he speculatively eyed the relaxed dark lord. 'If I don't keep up, death will be my only outcome.'
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
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