Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Head Boy's Secretary	By : PensievePerson Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 15064 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I am not making any money and I am not profiting from this story. I do not own Harry Potter or any related things. No money and no profit off of this.

Chapter List
- 26
- 27
- 28
Happy New Year! I will definitely finish this story in 2011. Below is the really exciting part, so glad I made it here. This is the start of an extraordinary climax and then there will be a few denouement chapters, and an epilogue.

Vic: Sorry you feel that way about my main character, Alice. But in this chapter she really takes a stand. And the ending isn't all that bad. She doesn't die and she escapes his wrath. She winds up living a long, blessed life, I hope you can stick it out to the end.
Chapter Twenty-One: Secret of the Darkest Art

It was now just moments after witnessing the bizarre ritual. Hundreds of orbs of golden lights floated around the study. So this was another one of those experiments. If she had been a good Secretary, Alice would have ignored it and set to the workload. But of course, this Fourth year Hogwarts student was no common Secretary. She was a powerful witch and eager to make light of the truth.

Alice�s eyes swiveled slowly around, watching the lights curiously, but cautiously. They didn�t appear to be dangerous.

Her gray eyes glimmered, reflecting off the golden, sparks of light. In her bosom, snuggled her pet kitty.

�Snarglepuff�.I don�t think we�re in Kansas anymore.� She couldn�t help but mutter that. This magic of which Riddle was the source was bewildering. In all her years studying at Hogwart�s School, the professors never mentioned fragments of light.

Riddle wasn�t coming for at least half an hour. Always, the Head Boy was punctual, but rarely arrived early. So protectively, Alice placed Snarglepuff inside her pocket. The innocent creature�s tail bobbed up and down, hanging out of the folds of the deep pocket.

Today there was no need to plunder the many books, and the hundreds of scrolls and papers. Because everything was made clear. Alice was certain that she�d figured out what was of such enormous value to her master.

She tiptoed over to the counter. The black-stoned ring rested innocently on the varnished wood, as sterile as it�s experimentation table.

It would be foolish to touch it. But something, tugged at her heart. A vision of mum and dad together came to mind. Could the ring possibly hold a magic to bring people back, and make the union whole once more? Alice had an accurate hunch that the ring could.

There was a time, when the men kissed the ring, as Riddle drank from a silver chalice of blood. So Alice tried kissing it.

Jealously she snatched at it and put the ring on her own middle finger. The ring called to her heart again.

And it warmed to her touch. Ghostly, pearly-white figures came out, and somehow Alice expected they would be in the form of Reginald and Evelyn.

Two large, featureless shapes hovered on the scene. But they were not her parents. They were phantoms, completely lifeless and formless. Voldemort had abused the stone, when creating the horcrux. The Peverell stone could not harness it's resurrection powers when under Voldemort's dominion. But Alice had not un-earthed, a single scrap of the ancient history of the stone.

The phantoms completely disappeared.

Like a wounded animal, Alice let out a cry of grief, pain, and despair. Just like in reality, Evelyn and Reginald were never going to get together again. And daddy was dead. No magic could raise the dead, right? Daddy could not rise, even in phantom form from his grave.

Reluctantly, Alice slipped the ring off. Returning it to the counter, it moved of its own accord. The ugly ring made a pirouette through the air, and a low whistling sound. It landed on the floor, and spun like a dreidel. Alice lost sight of Riddle�s ring.

Alice felt angry with herself. She shouldn�t have taken the ring off. She should have known the ring would of course defend itself and so she should have tried magic to diffuse its defences.

At once musing and ruminating the loss of the ring�s gifts, Alice wandered to the pantry. Riddle had the ingenuity to think of transforming it into his own miniature apothecary.

Alice pushed aside several bottles, careful to memorize their locations, so she could put the stuff back later. And then at last, hidden in the back of potions and poisons, she uncovered bottles of people�s blood.

There was so very many bottles of blood hidden back there, it was difficult to find the very one you were interested in. Some were marked �Pureblood�, others �Mudblood� or �Half-blood�. So Tom Riddle was conducting experiments to compare the differences in blood?

It was apparent that he only wanted the Purebloods to procreate. Any witch or wizard less than pure deserved to die. Riddle didn't think muggle-borns had the right to start a family.

Family was so important. But Alice believed she�d already lost hers with daddy gone, and only Evelyn left, a mother she wasn't fond of. If you have nothing, there is nothing to lose. These thoughts gave her a reckless desire.

Next to the bottles of blood was that of her own. Marked on it was, �Clitordectomy Curse.� And Alice saw the effigy. That was the false version of her actual clitoris. Inside the real clitoris throbbed viciously, horribly altered by a Dark curse, that seeped through her veins and would eventually destroy her.

She clasped the jar in cold, clammy hands thinking of the curse coursing through her blood even now. She had tried drinking the flask full of blood, once, but to no success. The burning deep inside the veins hadn�t gone. She was stuck to live a cursed life, forced to die inexorably slow and suffer with little room for pleasure.

�No! I am not going to have an unfulfilled life. I will drink deeply of the cup of life, and if not, I don�t care if he kills me�. She wanted everything suddenly, and hated that he might have ruined the future. And why did he want to take her female pleasure away? It was sick!

The bottle shook and with force, let it go. The jaw smashed and the glass shattered. The blood squirted out making a trajectory above towards the cabinets.

Instantly, she was awash with regret. Alice was thinking of sins, and the hot fires of hell, and hoping she�d be forgiven for sins on Judgment Day. But the Curse remained alive.

Smashing the jar and wrecking the effigy had not undone the curse. Agonizing stabs of pain coursed down there. The Dark Magic knew someone had destroyed its connection. Alice screamed in blinding pain and fell to the floor.

It seemed Alice would be found there, hunched over in pain. But then the burning ceased.

Alice found the strength to rise and looked around, reflecting on what had happened. What a mess it was in here! And the ring was missing. He�d surely accuse her. Alice knew he didn�t really trust anybody. She�d be the first suspect regarding the ring.

The flask was smashed to pieces. All of this would result in cruel punishment for sure. The Head Boy would do his worst, concocting the greatest suffering he could devise.

So Alice didn�t have the heart to do a Scourgify. The evidence that incriminated her was already there in blood-red stains. She was already sentenced to punishment, as the ring was gone! Worse yet, there was little time for more discoveries! Master Riddle would be in at four o�clock sharp.

But Alice still burned with a desire that there was still some element of the mystery to destroy. Revenge was sweet, wasn�t it? She smiled maliciously.

Alice went to the center and peered over Riddle�s desk. In the corner lay the little black book. Originally, she had mistaken that book for the Good Book. �Nothing good. Nothing holy can come from that�man.� He hardly qualified as a man anymore. There was something in-human about him. Alice had seen him transform while conducting those experiments into something that just wasn�t human.

There was more of Riddle�s plans on the desk. Alice leafed through a detailed map, full of Riddle�s beautiful handwriting. Several trails led straight to a great forest in Albania. Albania of all places!

She turned to another parchment. Alice read aloud, �Wit beyond measure is man�s greatest treasure.� Indeed it was, thought the Ravenclaw. However, what would Tom Riddle, as a Slytherin want with Ravenclaw�s motto?

Alice thought over this and wondered what connection this had to an Albanian forest. And then the answer lied on another paper. It was a detailed extract of �Hogwarts a History� on the legend of the great diadem that had been Helena Ravenclaw's.

Alice�s eyes stung with tears, crestfallen. He was out to steal the Diadem. He must want it to gain more knowledge. The legend after all, was that many witches and wizards over the centuries wanted it to gain unsurpassable wisdom. She did not know he desired it for a very different reason. Alice's head was spinning with the disturbing revelation that Tom Riddle was the only person who discovered where the diadem was hidden.

So he was planning a journey to Albania after graduating in June, in which he would steal the diadem this summer. But how did Master Riddle learn of its location? Alice thought back to a conversation with the talking gargoyles. Desperate for information on Tom Riddle�s activities, she had subtly asked the gargoyles for advice.

�We Gargoyles have ears to hear, but no eyes to spy!� The Gargoyles recanted that they had heard a young man discussing old Ravenclaw�s diadem with the beautiful deceased witch who was daughter to Helena Ravenclaw. So it must have been Tom Riddle who asked the Grey Lady, also known as the silent ghost. The Grey Lady must have told him it lied in a forest in Albania.

Alice turned back from the desk, deep in thought. But plastered on the wall, she was bombarded by several faded postcards of a cave. Surrounding the postcards was images of lifeless corpses and the steps towards re-animating them. Sort of like zombies, or an army of the dead. They were the early stages of Inferi, before any had actually been made. He was in the early stages of planning it. These were all the plans of a killer. A vicious, sadistic murderer.

But Alice understood what it meant, having heard of Grindelwald who had just been defeated a few months back. Dark Wizards could become addicted to making more and more Inferi. Her heart pounded at fully realizing that the Head Boy was a cold-blooded murderer. In fact, he craved killing because killing made him feel powerful and alive.

It was his fantasy to maim and kill thousands of people he considered beneath him. He was planning to conduct a murder spree. And he would never, ever stop.

In terror and disgust, Alice spun backwards. Right behind was the skull astrolabe. All those faces grinned back, laughing at death and murder with blank, soulless, evil eyes. The Curse prickled in her nether regions again and trepidation burned deep inside her. Alice�s adrenaline pumped, and it seized her with a terrible strength.

The astrolabe rumbled loudly, as it met its demise, crumbling into a heap of rubble. Riddle had spent countless hours engineering it's construction. Alice kicked and beat at it. It was now another mess.

Frantically, she glanced over her shoulder back at the black notebook. She grabbed it and considered throwing it to the fire. But she understood enough about Dark Magic by now to know that could not destroy it. She knew her master had a great attachment to this book. What could be so special about a plain, black book with empty, unused pages? Riddle was practical, he wouldn�t keep something unless it served a purpose.

Whatever dark purpose the book did serve, Alice was overcome with the urge to steal Riddle�s seemingly empty diary.

She couldn�t do it. Stealing was wrong, and a sin against her true master in Heaven. It would be a shame after months as an honest, working-girl.

But Alice was also angry and her blood boiled and then ran cold. She was associating with a dangerous killer, who was a much, much greater sinner.

There was only one other book propped open, obviously the last book he�d been reading. �Secret of the Darkest Art.� It took only a minute to realize that this book contained detailed instructions on becoming the complete opposite of a human being. The method was by means of a horcrux. What on earth was a horcrux? This was obviously the greatest work of the wicked warlock called Tom Riddle. This was his most nefarious deed. Was he already a killer? Had the Head Boy actually succeeded in creating this thing called a horcrux?!

Alice raised her head pensively and saw the golden lights floating eerily in the room. She could only guess if these fragments of light had a connection to making a horcrux.

Scientifically, muggles might call them subatomic particles. They were also infused with magic and they made a wind in the room. Strained screams and whimpers, and whisperings started. The hairs on the back of Alice�s neck stood straight up.

There was a feeling of being watched. It must be the particles watching. They knew they�d been disturbed, from their quiescent slumber. But something had awakened them.

The whispering of nothings continued and Alice thought maybe she�d better leave. But she was too scared to move. The golden lights had a consciousness and an awareness. They sensed that somebody had disturbed their Master's lair. This somebody was present and shouldn't be, and they sensed that this somebody would like to destroy themselves. Their Master was the one who had created them into these pathetic, fragmented bits. They were a destroyed piece of Tom Riddle�s soul floating around the room. He had taken it out of one of a horcrux today for an experiment. It was a piece of soul that was evil, impure and tainted by the stain of murder.

They might have been golden, but Alice sensed the particles had a black, dark aspect. Alice knew it was Dark magic and she smartly made the connection to them with the horcrux. They were something that could not be quantified or measured exactly.

Alice thought again of taking the diary. But how was she going to destroy it? She knew she hadn�t the resources, or the knowledge or the tools to confront his advanced magic.

The particles that resembled dust dancing in the wind started whispering louder. They were picking up Alice�s thoughts like an outside signal. Someone was there that shouldn�t be. Someone was tampering with their master�s stuff with a goal that threatened their existence.

The wind picked up to an icy breeze. Alice knew something worse was ominous. But the power of curiosity compelled her to stay. Her breath came out like a fog. A dark spectre of a being might swoop down and attack. Perhaps Master Riddle kept those horrible ministry beasts called Dementors?

Tom Riddle glided into his study, silently. The particles had called to him a warning and he'd come at once.

The candlelight flickered once and then went out. Alice turned around and to her horror saw the tall profile of Head Boy, Tom Riddle standing as impressive as ever.

Everything went dark. But not for Riddle. He was using the Hand of Glory now, which only gives light to the holder.

Instinctively, the Secretary reeled backwards, hands up, and darted away from his desk.

Alice challenged her employer, staring coldly into the dark void of his office. Her face was etched with revulsion. In retaliation, he stared back. Young Voldemort's nostrils flared, eyes gleaming with rising hatred like a snake coiling to strike. He did not look the least bit handsome right now, only monstrous and ugly.

His gaze was ferocious and even from several feet away, Riddle could use Legilmency to see that somehow she learned of horcruxes.

The forehead throbbed, a blue vein visible. His throat constricted with suppressed pain and agitation. There was a rage there that was terrible to behold.

"YOU!" He seethed with genuine surprise. Inwardly he was pondering how it could be that this mere girl could come this far. It had been incipient that someone was going through his things, but he hadn't believed it to be the Secretary, Alice Whitman. He thought it perhaps to be a male, probably one of the followers.

'A number of people it could have been that discovered my secret,' he ruminated privately. It dawned upon his mind, still numbed and stoppered by the shock that it was the person he thought least likely to unearth his most cherished, most buried secret. It had been foolish to underestimate her, he ascertained in a flash. Horcruxes. 'But how much could she comprehend?'

Lord Voldemort was too angry to think it through just yet. He advanced on Alice Whitman like a shadow coming to take her to the valley of death.

His wand came out, and he moved forward. Alice was caught between taking her own wand out, or using another means of protection. Religion remained the guide, and she believed that only something else could stop a monstrous demon such as he.

The Head Boy was walking sedately, closer and closer to Alice. One hand gripping the wand, the other outstretched to grab Alice.

In an instant Alice took out jug of Holy Water. With good aim, the water splashed his eyes.

"May you burn in hell, Riddle!"

She thought that it could burn him and make those eyes gleam red again, but the Holy Water had none such effect. Immediately after she made the split-second decision to make a run for it. Her life was at stake.

Running across the jumbled study, she almost fell over the skulls. Riddle didn't laugh, but strode lazily after, silently enjoying the fear. He was perfectly confident that he'd catch her. But let her try to escape, and fail!

There was another burst of inspiration. The memory of being confined to the chamber gave her an idea. She opened the door and went inside the dark, sparse room.

Alice wouldn't let the darkness take over. The witch lit her wand, and screamed, "Defodo!"

The wall crumbled and caved in. It slowed down Master Riddle, approaching from behind.

Alice jumped down an embankment to another room below. There was little time. Riddle could be heard above, rapidly moving rubble from the collapsed wall with his magic.

The room contained dozens of panels, with sliding doors, covered by tapestries. It would be difficult for Riddle to find her in here. Frantically, she looked about to choose the least visible one.

Triumphantly from above was his cold, high voice. "I can live forever, but you can't hide forever!"

There was only enough space to kneel, it was a tiny compartment, the size of a large coffin.

She fumbled desperately in her pockets. Snarglepuff must have escaped in the confusion. Alice felt relieved that at least her pet reached safety. Snarglepuff was free of Master Riddle's wrath. Alice would surely suffer torture, maybe even death.

She huddled against the soft, velvet tapestry, trying to muffle ragged breathing. Riddle was in the room, examining everything patiently. He listened silently, and Alice struggled not to breath, not to move.

Inwardly, she prayed to the Blessed Mother, with the Hail Mary prayer.

Cabinets were opening and closing.

He pretended to be kind, like he could sometimes do to those he needed. "Come out, come out Miss Alice!...I won't punish you. I promise not to hurt you. Come out, silly little girl!"

Was he play-acting or could he really not find her?

It didn't take too long though. Riddle sneaked up to slit his wand through the cracks. It looked like a knife. And then, the panel popped open.

With strong arms he tossed her out. "HOW?" He hissed demonically. He shook Alice violently.

The girl sobbed pitifully, expecting imminent torture. "I stumbled across it, s-Sir! It was an accident!"

"ACCIDENTS?!" Riddle screamed enormously loud, bursting with sarcasm, so loud it echoed.

"I didn't find out what you were doing on purpose!"

"YOU LIE!"

Hands enclosed her throat.

He was going to throttle her to death. Alice couldn't breathe, she was dying. Her face turned as red as an apple and the gray eyes bulged. But nothing could stop this terrible anger.

Finally, the hands released from her neck. It ached there, and she knew it would cause bruising. Alice coughed, sputtered and gasped for air. Riddle waited.

Then taking her by the robes, he dragged her bodily through the corridors and back to his study. Alice Whitman had come much too far, much too close to knowing it all. It was time for some serious questions and answers.

NOTE: I hope you liked the first half of the climax. Riddle is not going to torture or rape Alice in the next scene. Well maybe a little, I'm not sure. But he is going to tell her quite a lot, you'll see.
- 26
- 27
- 28
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Head Boy's Secretary