章 319: 8
{ === + === }
So…yeah.
Uh…
This…this is real bad.
This…
Ok, deep breaths. Deep breaths.
The little story in the corner was about none other than our dear Dursleys back in Little Whinging. Namely, how the three of them were found dead in their house with not a mark on their body.
The police are ruling it a suicide, as there is no evidence for them to go on.
Regardless of how much we dislike the Dursleys and how little we care for their death on an emotional level, the fact of the matter remains that this is a Very Bad Thing. For one, Harry has now lost the protection given by his blood…six years ahead of time. If I remember correctly, Harry needs to live under the same roof as Petunia until his birthday to continuously gain that protection until he turns into an adult.
For another, someone on the other side has as much magical knowledge as Dumbledore. Either that, or that someone is at least aware of what blood can do when it comes to magic.
...
Harry is...confused at the news, by the looks of it. On one hand, there's definitely no love lost between him and the Dursleys, but on the other they were the only true family he had left.
McGonagall strode down to our spot on the table, likely reacting to the fact that I buried my face in my hands.
Everyone around here quiets down due to the sheer pressure she exerts.
"Is something troubling you this morning, young Ash?" She asks a tad stiffly. "Perhaps too many sweets?"
I chuckle sadly. "If only." I grab the relevant page from the table and hand it over to her. "Bottom right."
I then watch as McGonagall's eyes go from "What is he up to now?" to "Oh we are FUCKED" Within the span of a few lines.
She does manage to collect herself by the time she finishes the piece and avoids causing more harm. "I can see that you care quite deeply for the muggle world, young Ash." She comments levelly. "Quite admirable."
I nod. "I like being aware…professor, could you pass that page onto the Headmaster?"
She understands, but bops us on our head with the paper anyways. "I'll keep that in mind." She says with the barest hint of a smirk. "Don't be late for class now…that goes for all of you."
…
So now what?
That threw me for a loop, and now I'm having trouble thinking.
Harry will probably be sent to live with the Weasleys.
But for how long? His relationship with them is no secret, and once people realize that the Great Harry Potter is at the Burrow…
Six years is a long time for shit to go wrong, especially with someone who has no problems acting outside of the normal timeline.
…maybe I can take him to the States?
And teach him to lie, cheat, and steal?
…yeah, that's not going to happen. Not until I can sustain myself without resorting to those things…or at least, without doing those things on a person to person basis.
We can open a bank and lie, cheat, and steal on a grand scale.
Funny, but no.
…
Note that at this point we are in the History of Magic class and are paying zero attention for the first time in a long time…much to Ron's chagrin, as he depends on us for his homework completion.
…
Damn…ok, one thing at a time. Harry will be taken care of one way or another. I need to be focused on the Basilisk. I can concentrate on finding out who or what took the Dursleys out of the picture when we're free to move around in the summer.
If there is still evidence left at the house a month later.
There should be, given that it could still be an active investigation scene at that point…looks like I'll be making a visit to Little Whinging before I head back to the states this time around.
Fred taps my shoulder while we're on our way to the next class. "Did something happen to Harry?" He mutters. "The Boy Who Lived is like a zombie."
…I'm amazed he knows that term. "The Boy Who Lived is going through some hard times right now; do the two of you have some time after class?"
Fred grins. "Do we ever." He then turns serious. "Is it because of what that muggle paper said?"
I shake my head. "Not really…but the sooner we get started, the sooner we'll be done."
"Right." Fred claps my shoulder. "See you after class."
…
[After Class]
…
The three of us (me, Fred, George) congregate at Myrtle's Bathroom.
"Why are we here?" Fred asks with massive amounts of doubt.
"Why are they here?" Myrtle asks with massive amounts of disgust.
"Apologize to Myrtle." I say with massive amounts of sigh.
George seems offended. "How did you know we pranked her in our second year?"
My response: "Because." I sigh again. "Sorry Myrtle, we'll be using the tunnel that we opened up last time."
"Oh! That thing? Can you even find it again?" Myrtle…I think she's staring daggers at Fred. It's hard to tell with her translucency.
Also, "Did you try going into it?"
Myrtle shakes her head. "It wouldn't let me."
…Really now.
"Thanks, Myrtle."
She nods happily and goes back to glaring at Fred.
Let's see here…ah ha, snake's right here.
So…uh, what did Harry do?
We make a strangled hissing noise and then cough at the end.
This really hurts my throat. Also, I didn't do it right.
George chuckles. "What was that supposed to be?"
"My attempt at Parseltongue." Maybe I didn't hold a syllable long enough? Let's try that again.
Second time, still no result.
"It sounds painful." George remarks unnecessarily.
I gag. "It is painful." Third try's the charm!
…Nope. This is really lame.
Myrtle clears her ghost throat. "I believe it sounded more like—"
She then mimics what Harry had said perfectly.
"Yeah." I nod as the ring of sinks sink away to reveal a hole in the ground. "You're a genius, Myrtle."
She giggles and…uh.
Ok then.
Myrtle floats over to examine the hole into the darkness with us.
Welp. "Fred, rope."
Fred jumps. "Huh? Oh, right." He creates a long and thick rope and magically ties it to every stall and pipe in the bathroom. "Just in case." He grins at my nonverbal question.
"Right…then I'll go first." I transform what I'd like to call a rappel hook from a stone in the ground.
It's a glove that lets us slide down the rope at a speed slower than "Break both legs upon landing".
…
…
Upon landing, I find out that the descent was probably way less dangerous than I gave it credit for. The tunnel curves at the very end so it's like a slippery slide that ends in rodent corpses.
Fred, George, and Myrtle join us in short order.
"Why are you coming along?" Fred asks her none-too-politely.
Myrtle, being the disembodied ghost of a teenage girl, just sticks her tongue out at him.
I voice my thoughts. "Wow, this place is way bigger than I thought."
"Yeah." George agrees, holding his lit wand above his head. "Do you reckon that the Basilisk is out?"
Unless Harry decided that he would like having a murdersnake in his possession, "No, it's probably around here somewhere."
"So no looking around like mad, huh?" Fred mutters. "Do you have something planned for this, Ash?"
"Unfortunately no." I sight the massive round gate that separates us from the main chamber. "We're not going deep anyways, though."
"No deeper than this gate?" Fred taps the massive stone Vault gate of engraved snakes. "So what next?"
"Next…" I gesture my wand to the ground. "We set up traps."
George perks up. "Traps? What kind of traps?"
I grin. "Traps of the lethal kind; by the time we're done here the snake won't get to move a foot before we pound it into a million little pieces."
"Er…" Fred's grin is just a little too sympathetic. Is he worried about my head? "And how do we plan to do that…?"
"Well, for starters," I wave my wand, and a small weapon creates itself out of the stone in the ground. "This."
Fred and George are stunned.
George gets his voice back first. "Did you ever read that book McGonagall gave you?"
She gave us the second book in the series of anger management books for Christmas. "No, not really." I shake my head. "Besides, this is not anger…this is duty."
Myrtle slides up to me. "Oh my, aren't you the chivalrous type." She coos. For the record: I am disturbed.
"So what should we do, make more of these things?" Fred taps the weapon with his wand.
I…grin. Like a kid who's found the secret stash of everything good in the world. "As many as you can handle."
"I don't like the look of this." George notes. "It's not anything dangerous, is it?"
I take out a blueprint. "If you do it right, it will be just fine."
"This…did you draw this?" Fred reads the label on the blueprint. "Is this a muggle weapon?"
I nod…somewhat. "Well…kind of."
"I thought they were skinnier." George muses. "Our dad once had one of those muggle weapons."
Really now?
"We got into trouble for that." Fred reminisces. "Good times. How many of these do you want?" Fred waves his wand and creates one of the weapons on the walls.
"As many as you can manage. Don't forget the triggers." I make another one.
So…
Yes, the weapons.
They are rocket punches. They are Drill Rocket Punches.
…I don't think I need to explain much more than that.
How do they work?
The rocket punches are made out of stone (because we're making them out of stone walls), and they're propelled by a Repulso charm enchanted into the base of their…thing, the Rocket arm.
So…why a rocket punch and not something more practical?
Because, uh…well, I mean, it's a Rocket Punch. Do we need an explanation beyond that?
Yes.
Fine…it's because I'm not sure if demolishing the Horcrux will cause Voldemort to recover memories from it. As far as the canon is concerned, the answer seems to be 'no'. Unfortunately, we're no longer working strictly with canon anymore, and the last thing I need is to clue the big bad in any early than absolutely necessary. I don't want Voldemort to find out that he's weak to a .50 caliber round to the chest until his physical body eats said bullet for the first time.
Plus, it's a fucking Rocket Punch.
…
We continue making Rocket Punches until it's time to leave (Myrtle periodically checks above ground to see what time it is).
Add that to the list of furniture I'll need to bring to Hogwarts: a small clock.
…
The three of us continue this on our spare time (and get a lot practice with opening the chamber's entrance) for the next week.
The rope is really useful, especially for us getting back up the damn slope.
Once the rope is removed the tunnel closes up.
It won't close so long as something is obstructing the entrance. I assume it also will open for anyone leaving the Chamber if the entrance closes with someone inside.
…
One day, we run into McGonagall on our trip back to the Gryffindor common room after our latest round of fisting the walls.
Sigh.
Why is she here? "Hi, professor. Lovely evening." We're not even at the grand staircase yet. She came after us?
She stops and stares for a few seconds upon seeing the three of us in one place. "I shudder to think why the three of you are together." McGonagall gets what's up. "And wipe that smirk off your face, young man." She chides sternly.
"Sorry, ma'am." I stop grinning. "Rest assured that we can solemnly swear that we are up to no good."
Fred gives us a surprised glance that we did not catch.
"I am not surprised in the slightest." She sighs. "You two, back to the common room." She gestures to the twins.
Fred and George leave but are utterly confused.
…Really now. I'm amazed they left without a second word, too.
"Professor…what's this about?" I ask her warily when the twins are out of earshot. I also stop myself from going for my wand by reflex.
She looks around. "Headmaster Dumbledore has informed me of information concerning the Dursleys."
Ah. "And the fact that they died…" so… "Are we going to investigate?"
She blinks in surprise. "You're quite sharp, Young Ash. If only your temper wasn't such an issue."
I grin again. "My temper's fine as it is, professor. I know where to point it, anyways. So why am I coming along?"
She…is smiling? "Why do you believe you're going along, young man?"
WELL. "You came here instead of heading directly out of the school to apparate, so it's hard to argue for an accident."
"The Headmaster did ask me to take you along, so don't let it get to your head." She's definitely smiling, though I can't tell if it's benign. "Now come along, lest we have to spend the night at that dreary place."
I salute. "Aye ma'am."
This is convenient. I don't have to worry about the scene being messed with by muggles.
…
So…apparating.
It is a bitch.
Fuck.
It is like being squeezed through a tube.
I think I need to rearrange my bones.
McGonagall led us into the forest where we apparated away. Nothing important happened (not even Aragog). Hagrid is still around, too.
…
"Here we are." McGonagall says in a low whisper. "Little Whinging."
Jeez. "This is the most textbook version of suburbia I've ever seen."
"I'm sorry?" McGonagall frowns.
Seriously though: every house is the same, every lawn is perfectly manicured, and were it not for the police tape wrapped around one of the damn houses I would be trying to find the Dursleys via breaking into each house one by one. Isn't there a zoning law that prohibits this kind of construction pattern?
Also, there are still police cars parked outside (what is probably) the Dursley household. I wonder if that means there are still officers in the house even though it's dark out.
"Have no worry." McGonagall reassures us. "It's not the house we're after."
It's not?
McGonagall leads us away from the street onto some other road, onto the doorsteps of another cookie cutter house.
Uh…I don't remember this part.
She knocks. "Arabella, we're here."
…who?
It's Mrs. Figg…but of course the active mind doesn't remember.
She's a nice old lady. And she has cats…crazy cat lady? Her grey hair feels like crazy cat lady.
"Minerva!" The old lady wails. "Oh thank goodness you're here, come in, come in!"
So we do.
I feel like I should know who she is. She has some very pretty cats.
I like cats.
"Arabella, this is Ash." McGonagall introduces me as I go and pet the kitties. "Ash, this is Arabella Figg."
…Oh. That's who it was.
"He's an interesting kid." Figg notes. "I never thought I'd see the day where an introduction leads to comprehension on a child's face."
My poker face is weak, lady. "I wondered why we were here, ma'am." I bow. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Arabella, we're here about the…incident." McGonagall says tersely. "What do you know?"
…
[Exposition]
…
Hoo boy. Let's see.
Figg can only give us a third-person account of the information, and honestly since she wasn't there in person she didn't see much.
…so really I would've gotten better information from dealing with the police.
According to her, the Dursley family was found dead over the weekend in their house.
I sat here for thirty minutes listening to her rambling story for that.
She couldn't search the house due to the presence of the police (by the time she found out that they died the police were already alerted), but according to them there was no signs of a struggle, the bodies had no damage done to them, and the house was properly ventilated (so no gas, either).
Most important part though? The positions of the bodies and their expressions implied that the attacker not only snuck up on the family entirely undetected, but the attack itself was carried out completely undetected.
Granted, the Dursleys weren't the most attentive of families, so the whole 'undetected' business isn't as impressive as it seems. That said, nobody saw a green flash either, so…
Hm. I'm stumped. I want to take a look at the scene of the crime, too…
…
Screw it.
"Where do you think you're going, young man?" Figg demands of me as I hop to my feet.
"Taking a look around." I reply. "That's what I came here for, ain't it?"
We leave.
"He's quite rude for a child." Figg observes.
"Dumbledore considers it a 'trait' of his." McGonagall chuckles. "Like Albus said, he's much shrewder than he lets on. It'll be easier to explain why a child is poking around than either of us, too."
…
Let's see here…I can't use magic right now, since I'm…I don't want to test if the enchantment checks for my physical or mental age, and I don't want to alert the police. Either way, no spells.
The active mind has forgotten what Dumbledore told him a year ago…can't blame him, really.
I kind of wish I fabricated a fake ID for myself before I came out here, though.
Who's going to believe you?
Hollywood?
…
…
I've been standing outside watching the house for a while, but it doesn't look like I can get in without a good alibi…damn.
We go to the nearby park and find a swing to sit on.
Hrm.
This is a pickle.
I really need to plan out my approaches before acting on them first in the future.
How many times have we fucked up like that now?
…
…
There's something moving behind me.
The movement on the grass sounds soft, but whatever it is feels big. I don't want to suddenly turn around and spook it into attacking, so…let's put some distance between us first.
We jump off from the swing and move closer to a streetlight.
I also palm my wand just in case. Better to get a warning than to be dead, after all.
Let's see…
…It's a massive, black dog.
…
Gee I wonder who it is
Watch your cover.
Fuck my cover, I want him in our corner as fast as possible.
The great black dog stares at us leaning on the streetlight.
That being said, how do I actually approach the topic? He might be an ally of Harry, but that doesn't hold true for us as we're a third party.
The easiest way would just be to talk to him.
True.
"Yo, Black." I wave to the giant black dog. "How's it hangin'?"
The dog cocks his head. If he turns out to be actually just a Labrador (if a big one) I'm gonna be really disappointed. Good thing it's dark out.
"I don't speak dog, so you'll have to change if you want any news about Harry." I say airily. God I hope he's actually who I think it is and not just a curious Labrador.
Fortunately for our pride (and the narrative) the black dog turns into a very shaggy man who looks immensely underfed.
"I take it you're no brat, child." (Probably) Sirius Black growls. "What about Harry Potter?"
Um. "Harry's safe and sound, I guess? Nothing really special has happened to him thus far." Except for the part where he killed a man through touching him, but eh.
Probably Black looks slightly convinced. "What brings you here then? You're obviously a student."
I jerk my thumb to the Dursley household. "That. If you have any useful info I'll be glad to hear it."
He smirks. "You should learn to mind your manners."
"My manners are perfectly fine, Sirius." I grin.
"Should I be surprised that you know my name?" Sirius growls. "What do you want?"
Welp. "Judging by your reactions, you don't know that much about the Dursleys." He nods at my comment. "So first things first, how did you get out of Azkaban?"
…
To summarize, it's pretty similar to what he said to Harry at the end of book three (Dementors suck out happiness, Sirius had something else). I assume this means that even in the canonical timeline Fudge twiddled his thumbs for a few months after Sirius busted out.
On a similar vein of thought, I wonder if that means Dementors can't affect 'hope' or 'resolve'?
"I thought about visiting the place where Harry lives and see what his extended family was like." Sirius continues. "But that doesn't seem to be an option now."
I chuckle. "Well, you didn't miss much. They were assholes."
Siriu's smirk fall a fraction. "So I've heard. Still, why would Dumbledore leave Harry to such bastards as they?"
Woo…he ain't happy.
"The wife of the family shared the same bloodline as Lily." I explain. "There was some kind of magical protection offered to him from that."
"Is there?" Sirius sounds surprised. "Would explain why Albus considered it as a plan otherwise."
Huh. "You don't like Dumbledore?"
"I agree with his thought process," Sirius growls. "But he's certainly not the white knight others think he is."
True that.
"Whose side are you on, anyways?" Sirius asks me suddenly. "You feel like Snape."
We blink in surprise. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"No, huh?" He grins. "You're about as unreadable as he is." Sirius then scowls. "I hope it means you won't backstab us, kid."
"You're worried that a child will kill all of you?" I can't help but grin at that. "Pretty high praise."
Sirius laughs openly, but there's a wild glint in his eye. "I know all about the strength of traitors, Ash."
Hmm…
"He must've really gotten on your nerves, huh? That Pettigrew." God I sound so condescending.
It had the effect though. Sirius's stare is like 100% shock. "How…how did you…" He finally manages to sputter out.
Come to think of it, I haven't seen much of Scabbers since the start of the term. Hmm.
OW ok on second thought that reveal was bad for my health
Sirius, in his slightly demented state, jumped and grabbed us by our collar. Also he's tall and we're not, so our feet aren't reaching the ground anymore.
"What do you know of Pettigrew!?" He demands.
Ok breathing is hard "He's a fuckhead. Let me down!"
Sirius gets a grip on his sense and does so.
Ack. That really hurt. "I know he's a rat, I know he's at Hogwarts, I know he's on the same side as Voldyfuck, I know he used to be your best buddy. Anything else?"
Sirius is momentarily speechless. "That's…wait, he's at Hogwarts?" He scowls. "I've heard that Hogwarts has been having trouble lately."
Yeah, but it's not because of him. "Fortunately, I don't think he has any sense of danger or duty towards Voldyfuck right now, so all he wants is to…stay…"
Oh…wait.
…
"What's wrong?" Sirius looks concerned.
I…seemed to have made a fucking huge miscalculation. "Son of a bitch." I breathe. "Sirius, on me. We need to move now."
Sirius (recognizing the tension in our voice) didn't disobey, and the two of us head back to Mrs. Figg's house at full speed.
I unceremoniously slam open the front door.
"Who the-" McGonagall starts to say before she notices the person behind me. "Black!" Her wand comes out impressively fast.
"Professor, stop." I say quickly, before she can jinx the two of us to atoms. "I can explain on the walk back, but we need to get back to the castle right now."
"Why are you siding with this murderer?!" She demands, her wand still pointed at Sirius's heart.
We move to block her line of fire.
"Minerva, I can explain…" Sirius starts to say, but her glare stops him.
"For fucks sake, Professor." I snarl. "We need to move now or someone in Hogwarts is gonna die."
"Watch your tone, young man." McGonagall chides me tersely. "And explain yourself this instant."
For the love of… "Ma'am, I can throw all the exposition you want to hear later…fuck it. Just tell the Headmaster to lock the school down. Sirius, you can apparate, right?"
"With a snap of my fingers." He nods.
"Then take me to the school, time's a wasting."
Sirius shrugs. "You're the boss…but I want an explanation like Minerva does."
We land in the Forbidden Forest.
"Bah!" Minerva lands next to us. "You're quite the problem child, Ash."
"Now what's this about?" Sirius asks as I begin the walk back to the school.
Here goes. "Long story short, Ginny Weasley received a diary made by a certain Tom Riddle. The fucker put a bit of his soul into it, and can exert a limited level of control over others so long as you open your heart to it."
"How do you know any of that?" McGonagall demands. Going by her gasp she seems to know about the type of magic involved, if not necessarily the details.
No time. "Later. Through the Diary Tom was able to control Ginny well enough to conduct every attack on the school's populace so far."
"You know some pretty big words." Sirius notes with a hint of a chuckle. "Hard to believe you're a second year."
"Later. The attacks stopped because Harry and I obtained control of the diary. We've kept it stored with us ever since." I continue. "I've been taking the time to troll Riddle every opportunity I get, and I know Harry has been using it to wheedle every last drop of info he can get from the diary."
Sirius frowns. "Won't it possess him?"
"Harry's a smart kid and follows instructions, so I've made sure he knows only to contact the diary for short periods of time." At least I hope he's following my instructions.
"So what's the problem?" Sirius asks.
I really should've remembered this sooner. "Ron Weasley."
"The youngest Weasley boy? Isn't he Harry's friend?" McGonagall sounds shocked. "Why do you suspect him? What do you suspect him of?"
"I don't suspect him, per se." I reply. "Ron has a fundamental problem called self-image."
"Makes him like Peter, you mean." Sirius mutters.
"With his family and his friends, I can certainly understand why he would feel as such." McGonagall agrees. "But I do not believe that makes him suspect."
I nod. "No, it doesn't. The problem is that Ron has a tendency to air out his problems to his fingerless pet rat, and the little guy's a damn good listener." Fucking Scabbers has been entirely under my radar for the whole year. Shit.
…
…
The three of us rush back to the school's main entrance.
Technically, it was the two of us with McGonagall following.
We rush into the great hall…it's very, very late. I hope I'm just being paranoid about all of this.
"Oh shit." I mutter. "Professor, go alert the Headmaster. Sirius, on me."
"You have a knack for taking control, I see." Sirius says with a grin. "I'm with you. We're up against a basilisk, right?"
"Yeah, so watch your vision."
"Don't sell me short, boy." Sirius fires off a series of ethereal somethings from his wand. "I am a man…and a Black, to boot."
I assume those things scout for him. Smart.
The two of us head for Myrtle's bathroom.
Ugh. My little child body stamina is failing me at this point.
…
We meet Harry and Hermione on the great staircase. Sirius keeps himself hidden with a…whatever charm he's using.
"What's up, guys?" I ask.
"Where were you?" Hermione asks suspiciously.
"McGonagall wanted a field trip." I shrug. "It's late. What are you doing up?"
"Ron's missing." Harry says quickly. "Have you seen him?"
…
Wow, my stomach just went cold. "When was the last time you saw him?"
"An hour ago?" Harry scratches his head. "He went looking for Scabbers and I haven't seen him sense."
It…um.
"We're worried he might be attacked." Hermione says in a low conspiratorial whisper.
…We have the f-actually, the two of them don't actually know about the diary being the tool used for attacks, do they? So their worry is entirely justified.
"He should be fine. Ron's not stupid." I…I almost cracked a grin at that. Sorry Ron. "Go find Fred and George. They're good at finding people, I think."
Hermione doesn't believe me. Harry, against his better judgment, does.
"Well…either way, go back to the common room. Sneaking around at night will just get both of you stoned." I sigh.
"What about you?" Hermione is still in a state of disbelief.
Lady, I am protected by my insanity. Also I actually know what's going on. "I'll be up shortly, no worries."
…
Ultimately the two of them leave, because I can occasionally sound like a rational adult and both of them still have a healthy respect for authority.
Despite not looking the part.
"So the Weasley boy's missing, eh?" Sirius recaps softly when we're sure we're no longer in danger of being overhead. "Think that bastard's got something to do with it?"
"Possible, but not probable." I reply. "Does Pettigrew have a history of sharing glory?"
"The greater the glory the less it goes around." Sirius says darkly…but then chuckles. "But I think that was the case for all of us."
Hrm. "In that case, Pettigrew's not going to rope Ron into it unless he absolutely has to."
Given by what I know of his thought process, I'm pretty sure Peter's communication with the diary would amount to something like Peter furiously writing down really inane ass-kissing bullshit.
And then Voldemort would buy it, not because he believes it, but because Peter is just incredibly easy to manipulate if you pandered to his sense of importance.
Which is kind of sad, actually…
Either way, we wait around the great hall for McGonagall to finish her report and return.
In retrospect, the idea that Ron's risking his comfortable sleep time to search for his rat is suspect. It's not like Scabbers as a pet was worth much and certainly not to a point where Ron would go searching for it, so…why?
Is it possible that Peter took him as a hostage?
For what gain? In the story proper, Ginny was pretty much a human battery. Ron hasn't taken to the book, and if our dear Tommy had a way to force the Horcrux's soul draining effects he would've done it already. Ron is peripheral in the great scheme of things, because Voldemort is interested in Harry, not his best friend.
Hell, if Tom was looking for vengeance, then it would be me he's targeting. I've made it clear enough to Ron that though he's a good dude we're not exactly friends, so I can't imagine Tom targeting him as a way to getting back at me.
…Hm. Right now, I need to ensure that the diary is still in our possess…someone's coming.
Sirius goes back into his hidden stance and we see a small candlelight come around the corner.
That's…Harry? He came back?
"Ash, are you there?" He asks softly.
"Yeah, I'm here." I respond a bit louder and make him jump. "What gives? I thought you went back to the common room."
"I did." He nods. "But the diary is missing."
…Fuck, I say.
"Alright, we're going there, right now." I start moving.
"Where's 'there'?" Harry asks, curious and confused.
"Myrtle's bathroom. We're going down that hole."
…
…
When we arrive, we find Fred and George already in attendance…along with Percy, of all people.
"Our little brother is down there." Fred(George?) says when I frown at him. "I'm sure of it."
"And your older brother thinks the two of you are mental." Percy grunts. "Who in their right mind would attack Ron?"
…is than an insult?
"Look, Perce, just take our word for it this time. You can always just go back to bed." George(Fred?) replies.
Sounds like Percy caught the two of them while they were up and went along with them?
"Ash, you believe us, right?" Fred(I don't care, he's Fred now) implores of us. "I know Ron's down there."
Percy's buying none of it. "What proof do you have?" He folds his arms. "For all I know you're just using Ron's name to get out of trouble again."
"If only they had a map that let them track people." I say as blankly as I can manage.
The twins, predictably, tense.
I pretend not to notice. "I'm here to check on the place, too." I nod to Percy. "Humor us for the next fifteen minutes, alright? Oh, and get something to cover your eyes."
Percy just frowns at us.
"Also." I snap my fingers, and Sirius Black appears from underneath whatever charm he was using to keep himself concealed.
Given that he looks like a murderhobo, I'm not surprised that the three Weasley kids (and one Potter) jumped and recoiled in fear.
…I just realized I can't call him by either his real name or his in-world alias right now, since he'll be an on-the-run criminal come two months from now. Then again I guess it doesn't matter, since we're already working with him.
"This is Sirius. Sirius, these are Weasleys."
Sirius bows courteously, if slightly exaggeratedly.
"Oy." Fred is annoyed at my introduction.
I wave it away. "Time's a wasting, we can do the nitty gritty later." I run my hand over the ring of sinks and find the snake again.
A little bit of strangled hissing later, and we have our entrance open again.
"Whoa." Percy and Sirius breathe.
"Rope." I say, and Fred makes the rope and tosses it down the entrance again.
Here's to hoping that we're just paranoid.
.
.
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