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Thou Shalt Not!	By : KusanoSaku Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 17650 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights for the creation of the Harry Potter novels go to J. K. Rowling. I make no money from this piece of fictional writing

Chapter List
- 21
- 22
- 23
Title: Thou Shalt Not!
Fandom: Harry Potter
Notes: Post-Battle of Hogwarts fic in part. Non-Epilogue compliant. AR/AU. Evil Dumbledore.
Summery: Severus Snape survives the war, only to realize he has nothing left to live for. While musing what he might have done differently, he is interrupted by the arrival of Dumbledore who is doing some 'housekeeping'. A duel begins and in an attempt to save himself, Severus does the unthinkable and breaks one of the greatest tenets of Magic! What has he done and where has he gone?
A/N: Finally Alaric deals with the dratted horcruxes, just how much pain does remorse cause?
Warrning: Magical rituals, Dark Grey Magic, Horcruxes and Alaric angst.

The Past- Ch 21
October 31, 1971
Black candles and salt from moon purified silver canisters were arranged in a circle around the horcruxes as well as incense specifically chosen because of the nature of the ritual.
Technically, this could be considered necromancy but since this action and situation was likely unprecedented, to Aurelius’ knowledge anyway, it was indeed a boon that the Manor’s wards were well shielded to keep their activities tonight from alerting the Ministry as a whole or at least interesting the Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries…
They had argued about whether or not to start with the earliest murder or with the most recent…
All of which had been done surprisingly enough when Dumbledore’s control was the strongest, when Alaric had turned fifteen and before he was twenty.
The longer he was away from the manipulative old coot, the more control he seemed to have.
Unless of course Alaric did survive death, then he would be the same sort of creature that stalked Harry for years only to fail in the end.
In the end they had decided to start with the most recent, only the two Muggle tramps died by Alaric’s own hand, his Muggle relations had died by another’s wand but he had killed them even if they weren’t killed of his own free will.
While Alaric had instigated Myrtle and Hephzibah’s deaths, but he hadn’t personally cast the Killing Curse or used poison on them. Aurelius wasn’t sure if Alaric had explicitly ordered the Basilisk to kill Myrtle or if he ordered it to open it’s eyes.
A Bleeding-heart Gryffindor would believe that they should throw themselves at the mercy of the Court. A Slytherin had a more prosaic view about it, especially since they couldn’t be truly responsible for their actions even by narrow-minded Gryffindors.
XooooooX
Alaric knew he couldn’t be truly responsible for all of those deaths, he still felt the blood on his hands. He cast the Killing Curse, he framed someone for murder twice, he had lied, cheated and killed to steal. He had attacked him fellow students, he had been a prefect at the time and he still did it. How could he have been made a Head Boy by that manipulative old man when he had ordered a basilisk to attack the students? At sixteen, he had four deaths on his hands. By eighteen the number had risen to seven…
One could argue that his Muggle relations were horrible people and his uncle Morfin wasn’t much better but the Muggles didn’t deserve to be dead anymore then Morfin deserved to be framed for their murder.
As for Myrtle, sure she was a whingy brat but she didn’t really deserve to die even if one got less headaches without her whimpering. Then again, her temper tantrums as a ghost had managed to make a small footnote in his memories by the time he graduated.
Though he had been lucky not to be like Olive Hornsby, the bullying witch had been haunted by Myrtle until the girl was nearly insane.
In Hephzibah’s case, her only ‘crime’ was maligning his mother and having bought Slytherin’s necklace, she certainly didn’t deserve death for it. Then again, Merope wasn’t very bright…
Sure the old woman’s house was full of expensive but useless junk, but she made him feel important even when he was there on business.
Then a hand grasped his shoulder…

XooooooX
“Are you ready for this?”
Alaric flinched. “Would you be alight if it were you?”
Aurelius sighed, “The only life I took was Dumbledore’s but that was after he was dying from your creative curse and poison. Thought I did accidentally cut off a student’s ear while in your service, in my defence I have never been even keen on flying. I may have injured more but to my knowledge I only killed Dumbledore and we know he was not an innocent. From what I know of both sides of your family, they were no better then my own. My grandfather never acknowledged my existence either; my mother has been a vacant person submitting to all sorts of abuses. To be honest, your family is no great loss Muggle or not. Neither took much notice of us and we were left to mostly look after ourselves. ”
“For the longest time I believed that due to my mother’s dying when I was born, that she was too weak to be a witch.” Alaric grumbled.
“I would have surmised the same in your shoes, I was lucky I didn’t end up in an orphanage. I would have been better off if the Evans had officially taken me in but that didn’t happen. My being here in this time period will change both Severus and Lily, not just because they are now at Durmstrang.”
“They are lucky kids.”
“So will yours be if we can repair your soul.” Aurelius said pointedly.
It was nearly midnight after all…
They had decided to begin at exactly midnight on Samhain; the veil between the worlds was the weakest at four am when the world was at its darkest. They had to be finished before then…
Purified salt and black candles to trap the summoned spirit of the victim that was used to create each Horcrux surrounded each horcrux.
They began with the diadem….
“Shed blood…innocent blood. Every life is precious…I am one who has killed. I took a life; I do not even know your name. Soul of my victim return so that I might see your face.” Alaric intoned in Latin.
The room’s temperature dropped.
The flames shivered as a dark shadow rose over the diadem.
“Murderer!” the ghost spoke in Albanian.
Alaric flinched, “What I did was wrong. Had I a choice I would never have killed you. I knew nothing about you. I shot first and now I must live with your life on my hands. I killed you because I was forced to. That is a terrible excuse but it’s sadly true. I had no wish to do so…”
He was apologising in a Slytherin manner but Aurelius believed he did regret what he had done…
He, Alaric apologised and let himself feel true remorse for the murder of the peasant.
Then the ghost bowed. “You are forgiven…”
The ghost vanished.
The faint outline of Alaric’s younger self rose from the diadem and plunged into his chest.
Alaric clenched his teeth in pain…
Was this worse then the feeling of dying when he had his soul in pieces like Aurelius described? Or was this like when you broke a bone and had to have it set?
Alaric was stalk still as his soul piece crashed into the rest of his soul…
The pain was immense…
He was exhausted already…
That was just one death…
How much would the murders of the Riddles feel?
Aurelius frowned, “Are you alright?”
Alaric glared, “Of course I’m not alright! My soul had five pieces ripped from it and if I don’t fix it I’ll die from a curse the shade of Merlin put on me. One down, still four left and we have less then four hours…”
Aurelius snorted mentally, likely he would react similarly were he in Alaric’s shoes. “Then you are prepared to continue?”
Alaric nodded sharply and began the ritual at the second circle the one around the necklace.
Summoning the ghost of the man he had killed to create his fourth horcrux.
Muggles were very weird and summoning this one was more awkward then the last one. This seemed to be terrified about the witchy nature of it as well as a bit brain damaged by alcohol…
It took sometime to calm the ghost down and convince it to that he was not going to use him to do anything horrible but he had called him here to apologise for his death.
Then the ghost went nuts on him.
Alaric silently took the verbal abuse.
Finally the man stopped his rant, “Well aren’t you going to say something?”
Alaric sighed, “What is there to say? You’re dead; I caused it. I was hypnotised and made to do it. If I had the choice, we would never have crossed paths and you would never had died because I caused it. Your life however brief or not would have ended on your terms rather than that of my puppet master. I knew nothing about you, I still don’t. All I know is that you did not deserve to die that day. I am sorry for your death, you just had the misfortune to cross my path.”
“It’s like when I were in the war and they gave me that gun huh? I dinna wanna kill no sir but they told me to fight and kill so I did. I dinna like it an’ every man that fell were like a knife to me heart.” The man said solemnly.
Alaric flinched, “I suppose it was similar. Only I was not aware I was following any orders.”
“Ye seem like a decent bloke since ye called me here to apologise. Not sure how ye did it but for what it’s worth I understand.”
As the ghost melted, the soul fragment levitated on its own power and then was tugged viciously into his body.
It was far more painful then the first, perhaps because he already knew what to expect…
Thank Salazar Aurelius didn’t ask him if he was all right this time or even speak until Alaric felt as if he had recovered.
“Ready?”
Alaric glared. “Now I have to face a nice old lady who probably had no idea she was murdered and will be shocked to know I did it. Sure she was annoying but she doted on me and gave me expensive sweets when I visited. If business wasn’t involved I might have thought of her as a sort of surrogate grandmother…”
“Well,” Aurelius pointed at the chalice’s circle, “what’s stopping you?”
The glare he received clearly showed the former ‘Dark Lord’ contemplating exactly why he let him continue to breath air.
Like himself, Alaric considered all the ways to remove a person from living and how they might get away with it but their very underdeveloped but still present conscience kept them from actually killing anyone of their own free will.
For example, one only had to meet Andromeda to know that she disliked Bellatrix and when her middle sister attacked the Longbottoms, she very much had considered some pruning of the family tree.
If Molly Weasley hadn’t killed Bellatrix, once Andromeda learned that her sister killed her daughter, Bellatrix would have been soon to die at her wand. Likely far more ghastly then the mad witch had at Molly’s.
Alaric stiffly stepped up to the chalice’s circle and called up Hephzibah’s spirit.
The old lady appeared but she looked younger and softer, not quite the cream puff Alaric remembered.
The woman blinked at him, “Do I know you?”
Alaric bowed, “I’m older but its Tom.”
The woman leaned closer and then a smile crossed her face, “Tom! What a dear to call me up and on Samhain no less! I knew you were a sweet young man at heart even if you were a Slytherin.”
Alaric swallowed, feeling very ashamed, “You know if I had a grandmother…I would have wanted her to be like you.”
The woman preened, “How sweet! You’re gotten even handsomer. How long has it been since I died? Being dead one loses track of time.”
Alaric sighed, “Its Samhain 1971, you died in 1947…”
“Oh dear I would have been quite old if I lived that long. If you don’t mind me asking how did I die? It’s a bit fuzzy to be honest…”
Alaric shifted nervously, “I’m afraid it’s my fault…you see it was my mother who sold the locket to Mr. Burke. She was rather simple really, all that inbreeding you know and she have any idea of its worth because she was lost without her father and brother. My father was a Muggle and when he learned she was a witch and used a love potion on him he abandoned her.”
“Oh you poor dear!” Hephzibah exclaimed.
“My mother delivered me very early on New Year’s Eve morning at Wool’s Orphanage and having practically froze due to her having run out of money, she expired soon after.”
“A Muggle orphanage Tom?”
“I changed my name to Alaric, I found out through Gringotts that I have an inheritance though Salazar Slytherin so I turned my back on my Muggle blood as they did me and took a worthier name. Alaric Peverell-Slytherin at your service.” Alaric bowed courteously.
“Alaric…” Hephzibah tested the name with her nonexistent tongue, “I like it. Now as lovely as being summoned is dear, why ever did you call me and you never did tell me how I died.” She pouted at him.
Alaric swallowed, “I’m sure you’re familiar with the Imperious and memory charms in general aren’t you?”
Hephzibah frowned, “Of course, I know that the former is illegal and the later regulated.”
“I was imperioed to take items belonging to the founders and used them to made dark Artefacts. I was responsible for your death; I used the Imperio on your elf so she put an undetectable poison in your evening cocoa. I then vanished with your cup and the necklace. I plan to return it to your family of course once it’s no longer a Dark Artefact. All I can say is I’m really sorry; I would never have hurt you if I had the choice. I know I wasn’t the warmest person when I was young and I can’t say I’m much better now but I am sorry for your death and the part I played in it.”
“Well from what I know about both of those types of spells I can imagine you wouldn’t have had a choice in the matter. I won’t say I understand because I’ve never been in the same position thank Helga for that.” Hephzibah said stiffly. “I always thought you were a good boy at heart, though it may have been my Hufflepuff nature to think so. In that case, since you called me back on Samhain to apologise I must believe that you are sorry. So for what it’s worth, I do forgive you. Now I expect you to be a good man from now on even if your definition of what that is would vary greatly from mine. As your default grandmother I order you to have a family and to make sure that Slytherin’s line doesn’t end with you. I am Helga’s descendant, one of them anyway and I expect you to be a good father. The sort of father you wanted when you were young, all children had an ideal parent in their imagining and as an orphan I’m sure you had plenty of time to think about it.”
Alaric felt much lighter due to Hephzibah’s forgiveness then that of the nameless Muggles before her. “I wish we could talk longer but I have so little time.”
“Oh dear whoever cursed you must have made you do terrible things, you poor boy. I’m go back now but don’t fret now, if anyone over there tries to say anything horrible about you I’ll deal with them.” Hephzibah beamed at him, “Goodbye Alaric.”
Then she vanished like smoke, the candles in her circle going dark.
The soul shard rose from the goblet and slammed into his chest, the pain was more horrible due to his secret fondness for the old woman causing him to collapse and land hard on his knees. This death was the one that haunted him the most even if he never looked her in the eyes to kill her…
Was it because she was a witch? Or because she was actually kind to him when he was still floundering just out of Hogwarts?
“It’s nearly two are you ready to proceed or would you like to wait a year to finish this?” Aurelius asked quietly, he’d watched Alaric anxiously as he struggled to convince Hephzibah Smith not only of his complicity in her death but his sorrow and shame for it.
Aurelius was seeing more of Alaric’s metaphorical soul then his visual manifestations rising from the horcruxes…
Alaric took deep, cleansing breaths to calm himself and breathe through the pain of having his soul shard forcibly rebond to his fractured soul.
They had until three thirty at the latest to finish and they were over halfway there already…
Aurelius decided to keep his own counsel and let Alaric decide if they were going to finish tonight or not…
It was seven minutes before Alaric rose and made his way over to the ring’s circle of salt and candles.
Aurelius was merely present as an observer and a subtle encourager though neither would admit to such things.

Alaric was grateful for Aurelius’ support even if it was merely annoying him, if it weren’t for the younger man’s assistance he’d still be an unknowing pawn of Dumbledore’s. He wouldn’t have any titles, homes or vaults much less have known that there was a unfulfilled contract between the House of Gaunt and the House of Black. He did owe the man for helping him, not killing his sister was a small and unworthy price.
Reviewing his thesis that had been turned into Abraxus wouldn’t do enough for lessen the debts between them. He may not have been raised in the Wizarding World but he’d immersed himself into the Pureblood culture by managing to ‘befriend’ Oran Nott, Nêreus Avery, Renard Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov and Rivalan Mulciber. Normally, the likes of them wouldn’t play nice with a supposed Muggleborn.
They had become the closest things he had to brothers…
Not that he would be comfortable admitting it…
Oran had sworn that he’d make him his firstborn son’s godfather and the request had touched him even if he’d said he expected that the babe not be a weakling or else he’d be seriously pissed.
It didn’t help that the Malfoys had insisted that after Adelia died in childbirth that it was Oran’s fault, it was mostly the Dowager Lady Malfoy Muriel who still claimed that. Adelia lost a daughter in a miscarriage early in their marriage, they’d married at their parents’ insistence when Adelia was sixteen and Oran was fourteen but it was the twins that ended up practically killing her. She fell while Oran was at school having already graduated and began bleeding heavily, which put the infants into distress by the time a healer was called. In the end, Oran lost his wife and three children; two didn’t live long enough to even breathe and the last, a daughter died in his hands…
Abraxus and Apollus had known their elder sister was sickly and she wanted to be a mother strangely enough.
For Oran to still be unbonded and childless had to say something for his affections for his Malfoy wife. Unless of course he wasn’t given any options due to Muriel’s caustic tongue…
Alaric was still wary of pregnancy and childbirth due to his own mother dying as well as Oran’s loss. If he didn’t know that Cassiopeia had given birth before with seemingly little difficulty he wouldn’t want to put her through that.
While she kept in contact with her children, daughters actually, she had returned to the House of Black after her bonded Gaia died. It hadn’t been a love match but they had gotten on well enough, Gaia Lovegood was a descendent of Ravenclaw and well he wasn’t sure how well they would take the news that their mother might be getting married again…
Aurelius clearing his throat brought Alaric back to the matter at hand, he muttered under his breath before reluctantly summoning his Muggle relations and reluctantly his Uncle Morfin not at the same time, he wasn’t a fool. He couldn’t apologize properly if he did in fact regret it, which he did, if he didn’t acknowledge that he messed with the man’s mind. Not that Morfin wouldn’t have killed the Riddles if he’d thought that the Muggle had defiled his sister…
Musing over his dead relations wasn’t wise given how his issues with Hephzibah had caused him so much pain.
He was facing his paternal grandparents and his sire’s ghost; he was irritated that he looked a hell of a lot like Tom Riddle even in a ghost state.
“Who are you?” the elder Riddle man barked, “and why are we here?”
“He’s that mad Gaunt’s son.” His sire spat, “He’s used that witchcraft to summon our ghosts. What the hell do you want?”
“Nice to see you three again.” Alaric said bitterly, “Calling you here is not a choice I am entirely pleased with. If I never saw you I would have died happy, I have no love or desire to be one of you. I thought I’d let you know that I have give up the name my mother gave me so you will be happy that I’m not sullying the name Thomas Riddle.”
“What Tom was thinking when he let that Gaunt slut trick him into such a misalliance.” The imperious woman muttered darkly.

“I’m not very fond of my mother but I’m not keen on listening to anyone malign her anymore then Tom would be to hear you spoke of in that manner even if the insults would not be equal.” Alaric’s voice was icy.
“Why are we here?” his grandfather snapped.
“Well I killed you.” Alaric said stiffly, “If I’d been in my right mind at the time I would have observed you from the shadows determined that we had nothing in common so I wouldn’t have intruded in your perfect little world. Now I was forced to do it, the how isn’t necessarily important right now. The trouble is you’re all dead and as much as I dislike you three you didn’t deserve to die that night. We’ll never like each other and I’m about as disgusted at being related to you, as you are to know I existed when you died. Whether or not you chose to forgive me is up to you, I only called you back to tell you that I’m regretful to have been the cause of your deaths.”
“We haven’t forgiven your for existing, what makes you think we’d forgive you for being our murderer.” His grandmother snapped.
Alaric shrugged, “I told you I didn’t expect it, I had to only voice my regret.”
“I’ve wondered…what happened to you? I never liked the Gaunt girl and learning she tricked me pissed me the hell off.” Tom muttered.
“Thomas Alvin Riddle!” his mother snapped.
“Hush mother, he is my son by blood if nothing else.” Tom said darkly. “If we hadn’t been legally married the Gaunt girl and I, he would still be my bastard. Even old families like ours had them sometimes.”
“I went to a good school, the best in the country.” Alaric said proudly. “I was quite popular with both the students and teachers. I had top marks and ended up Head Boy.”
“Harrow or Eton?” Tom asked.
Alaric snorted, “Neither I took after my mother if hadn’t guessed so I have magic as well, hence how I managed to kill you by practically frightening you to death.”
“How are you now? Do you have a wife? Any kids?” Tom pressed.
“I’m recovering from the assault that resulted in your deaths, I’ve managed to take full control of my mind. I am engaged to a lovely woman, who quite intelligent and beautiful. She’s rich and a member of a powerful family in my world. I’m looking forward to a life with her.” Alaric frowned.
“I was a crummy father, I may not have wanted you at first but it seems despite your stumbles you’ve come far. I was a rascal as a young man; I didn’t grow up until after the war. I was too young during the Great War to fight, being ten when it started and fifteen when it was over. I don’t know how much you know,”
“I grew up in London.” Alaric said shortly. “I was there during the Blitz.”
Tom flinched, “And you lived?”
“Well obviously.” Alaric glared.
“I’m sorry you had to see that dark part of our history but I am glad you lived. I fought to protect England hoping you were living, I wasn’t even sure if the girl had been telling the truth about being pregnant but if I had a legitimate son somewhere I had to fight to keep England safe for him. It started as patriotism but in the end, like everyone out there I was fighting to protect the people I cared about. If we’d met under different circumstances I would hope we might have come to have a semi-cordial relationship. At least I got to see you once before I died to know that I really did have a son, even if he hated me.”
Alaric was floored, his father had fought the Nazis and lived through it hoping to one day meet him if he really existed? He swallowed, “You’re not saying you forgive me…”
“I fought in a war and killed son, but I never really wanted those men dead. I just wanted to hold a line so that others would be protected. It was kill or be killed, the situation isn’t quite the same but I did agonise over the lives I ended after the war. If I had shot someone I knew and learned about it later I would have drunk myself to death rather then appear before their family and apologise. You’re already a better man then I. I know that my parents won’t forgive you but I will. You marry that woman son and you raise a family together. I want you to be the sort of father I never got a chance to be; take your sons to the park and teach them about cricket, teach your daughters ride a horse or a bike. Give your kids all sorts of teachers to learn about anything they want. Send them to good schools. Raise them right son; teach them to respect their fellow man and woman. Do that and when we meet again I want to know everything…”
With that said, Tom dissipated taking his protesting parents with him.
Alaric was stunned, what the hell? He had to be dreaming…he pinched himself and felt a sharp zing. Okay not dreaming… he swallowed, “Time?”
“Three. Your reunion with your relations took an hour Alaric.” Aurelius chided.
Alaric fumed, “I need to talk to Morfin and the weepy Ravenclaw still.”
“Forget Morfin, focus on the actual victims. Reabsorb the soul shard you’re running out of time.” Aurelius scowled.
Alaric hated to admit that Aurelius was right, he cleared his mind looking at the Gaunt ring and let him feel his sorrow and anguish for having taken the life of his own father who had in his own way wanted to know him. Even if the man was a Muggle, the man had seemed to want him to do something with his life rather then turn himself in. Or had the Muggle decided that he couldn’t do so if he hadn’t been responsible for the taking of their lives?
His regret pulled the soul shard from the artefact housing it, if he thought Hephzibah hurt fuck. It was more painful regretting his father’s death by his own hand…
He ended up on the ground on his hands and knees trying to breath through the pain.
Alaric had too much pride to crawl over to the circle that held his diary; he stumbled to his feet and reached the circle. He was still in pain, but he was running out of time this Samhain and if he didn’t finish now he would never dare face this again.
He called Myrtle’s ghost from Hogwarts, the ghost was screaming it what seemed like pain and thrashed in the circle.
“OW! What did I do? I’ve stayed in Hogwarts like I was,” the ghost whinged, pausing to look at him. “Wait, do I know you?”
Alaric sighed, “Probably not, I’ve grown up a lot since we last saw one another.”
The ghost pouted, “Rub it in because I’m dead and you got to grow up. What will you tell me next? You’ve got married and have a family?”
Alaric shook his head, “Not yet. You were a Ravenclaw right?”
Myrtle scowled at him, “Of course I was! Not that they liked me much there.”
“Then you know what the Imperious is.”
“It’s called an Unforgivable because it causes the caster to take control of the victim’s mind and control their future actions within programmed parameters. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I was cursed it with. The result was that I was to open the Chamber of Secrets which was hidden in the bathroom you died it. Because you happened to be in the very worst place possible, you ended up dead because you looked into the eyes of a Basilisk.”
The ghost of his very first victim flinched, “Those glowing yellow eyes were the last thing I remember before I woke up a ghost hovering over my own body.”
“While I didn’t like you Myrtle Stevens, you didn’t deserve to die…even if you were a whingy little Ravenclaw who snivelled at the slightest provocation. I was surprised that you haunted the Hornsby chit rather then finger me as your killer.”
“I didn’t remember how I died at the time and I didn’t see your face, it wasn’t as it I would have recognised your voice. Damn it who were you?”
“And Ravenclaws are supposed to be observant and intelligent…” Alaric said dryly.
“To be able to talk to a Basilisk you had to be a Parseltongue, I remember reading that somewhere. The only line to have it supposedly was Slytherin’s, I heard there was a descendant in that House but I always thought it was a rumour…sort of like the rumour that Minerva McGonagall was a girl lover but that was after those I went to school with like you obviously graduated.”
“I was that boy, it wasn’t a rumour with no basis. I started the story myself. Now I have very little time left. I caused your death but it wasn’t willing, you deserved the right to grow up, fall in love, get married and have a family of your own.” Alaric ground out.
“You really believe that? That I should have had all of that?” Myrtle frowned.
“Of course he does.” Aurelius snapped. “It’s not like you’re not remembered. Pomona Sprout may have been a Hufflepuff but she knew about you and she named her daughter after you. She’s currently at Hogwarts I believe both Pomona and Myrtle, you are welcome to ask Pomona about it.”
Myrtle beamed, “I’m not forgotten? Most students don’t even know who I am…”
“It’s hard to forget you Myrtle, even those who only knew you by sight or were at Hogwarts when you died didn’t forget you.” Alaric said honestly to his own annoyance.
“Well I know Olive Hornsby didn’t forget me. I made sure of that…” Myrtle smirked.
“I’m quite glad that you didn’t remember me at the time because until recently, I wouldn’t have felt anything other then sick pleasure at causing your death. It wasn’t until I had the Imperious removed that I realised what I’d done.” Alaric muttered.
“Well if I had to die at least you were cute.” She moved to the edge of the salt circle to peer at him more closely. “Ooh you’re that Riddle boy! Aren’t you? You were so yummy looking… and your fiancée is soo lucky.”
Alaric flinched, “I don’t like that name, I changed it.”
Lucky, I would have changed mine if I had the chance. I got sick of being called Moaning Moping Myrtle all the time.”
“Why did you give them the chance to call you that? You should have dug your heels in and not given them a reason to pick on you.” Aurelius sneered.
“I like you better then.”
“Don’t mind him he’s got it bad for a Malfoy…”
“Ooh is it that Abraxus? Was he ever yummy!” Myrtle beamed at them.
“Abraxus was the year behind me and no, it isn’t Abraxus.”
“Alaric now is not the time,” Aurelius fumed.
“It’s Lucius isn’t it? He is the yummiest guy in Hogwarts! I love watching him in the prefects bath…”
Alaric watched Aurelius glare daggers at the ghost, “Well I’m afraid it’s time for you to go back to Hogwarts. Please don’t tell anyone I had a hand in your death…”
“Why would I? You’re sorry right? You were under the Imperious, you told me so. I wish I didn’t have to go back…it gets lonely there sometimes. All of the other ghosts are so old!” Myrtle was almost whinging at the end.
“Go talk to the Grey Lady, her name is Helena. She’s Rowena Ravenclaw’s eldest daughter and I know she’s lonely too. She was only a few years older then you when she died. I think being both intelligent and of the same House that you might have something in common. I believe she died at the hands of an impetuous Slytherin…” Alaric said thoughtfully.
“Really? I’ll have to go talk to her…” then Myrtle vanished likely returning to Hogwarts to look for her fellow Ravenclaw ghost.
Not bothering to ask how much time he had left he said shortly, “I’ll likely pass out after this. I trust since this is your house you’ll clean up after.”
Before Aurelius could respond, Alaric let himself feel his guilt at causing the death of another student much less that of a girl when he was a child himself.
The pain of having the shard rebound to rebond to his fractured soul was extreme, and as his soul re-fused he let out a whimpered scream that he would deny for his entire existence.
True to his suspicions, Alaric did pass out and crumple to the stone floor.
XooooooX
Aurelius cursed under his breath as he dispatched the circles of salt and the black candles casting a spell to purify the ritual space before returning the artefacts to a pure silver casket lined with salt that would leech the last of the dark magic from them before he conjured a stretcher and levitated the unconscious man onto it.
He wouldn’t want to be in the man’s place but the part of him that still wanted the former Dark Lord dead for causing Lily’s death and cursing Harry’s life has satisfied by the man’s suffering.
Albus wasn’t kidding when he said that the rebonding of a shard to the tattered soul of the caster would be excruciating. More so then having the soul torn apart…
Was that because the manipulative old coot had experienced it for himself?
Funny, that he never considered it prior.
Now, that Alaric had reconstituted his soul he should be free of Merlin’s curse and thus free to marry his Black witch.
Though he did wonder about the emotional toil of Hephzibah and Tom Riddle’s words on Alaric…

What do you think? Outstanding? Exceeds Expectations? Acceptable? Poor? Dreadful? Troll?
A/N: If you're interesting in Lily, Severus and Remus' time at Durmstrang please read Turning tides. There will be some appearances from James and Sirius at Hogwarts, I promise and a few letters...
What do you think of how Hephzibah and Tom Sr. related to Alaric or Myrtle's odd behavior? I think that Myrtle and Helena could be good friends if they ever spent time together due a similarity in their life ages unlike the other ghosts- hence why Alaric tried to make up to his unintentional cruelty to to both witches by recommending that Myrtle make a friend. They can irritate the Bloody Baron together. Given Myrtle's spying on Harry in the Prefect's bath in 4th year and her strange friendship with Draco 6th year, spying on Lucius seemed very plausible and who could resist? The Malfoys are beautiful and smoking hot...
BTW for those interested in Sev, Lily, Remus and James: you can read the sister story Turning Tides that tracks them...
Calmzone1 - Sorry for the lateness. Yes I am continuing it, the horcruxes were just troublesome to deal with from a writer's stand point seeing as how I really wanted to try for originality. I promise I made everything up myself, any problems were a result of my insomnia.
LiAyra - Thank you! I like to play in this universe really because everything in an unknown. Any fan of Dumble-bashing likes a good down with Fumbles story. I'm glad you find this well-written.
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