Post by IVY on Jul 27, 2009 2:57:54 GMT -5
"what is it?"
"can i touch it?"
"shut up, before he offs you both -"
"thanks, amycus, i was tempted," everard paced the corner of the motel room, stroking his chin. the beds had been pushed against the wall; all furniture rearranged so all that remained was a wooden table and just enough chairs for those that convened. "shit -"
"so you really think it’s -"
"i thought they were all destroyed -"
"yeah, they were. at least, so the prophet said. well…" he stopped and returned to the others, folding his arms across his chest. it was unmistakable, the small hourglass pendant hanging innocently from a golden chain. "either they lied, or this is larger than we imagined." everard heaved a sigh. it had been over thirty years since the great harry potter had fought his battle against lord voldemort at the ministry for magic. thirty years since every last time-turner had supposedly been shattered. though certainly not an unspeakable, everard was well on his way towards the post of minister - favored in the last election poll. if there was redevelopment going on, he would have been informed. of this, there was little doubt.
"what do we do, then?"
"be quiet, and let me think, for merlin’s sake-" yes, what do they do? everard never expected to pull it off; having planned more about what he would do if he were to get caught than if he actually succeeded. it was only a rumor, this timepiece’s existence. but now that he had it in his possession, now that its power was at his disposal, he hesitated. "we go back."
"back?"
yes, back." back in time, of course. he had done enough research about such artifacts; their point and purpose, their inner-workings, what made them tick, so to speak. the hourglass pendant was twisted to move through time, the number of turns on the hourglass corresponding to the number of hours one traveled back. supposedly the travel would end as the traveler arrived to the point of time of which he actually left. sensible, yes. but where he intended to go, everard highly doubted that part would be an issue. "look, i’ll bloody go alone if i have to -"
"who said i wasn’t going? but ev-"
"what.."
"what the hell are you going to tell him?"
salazar slytherin twirled his wand delicately between his forefinger and thumb, leaning back in his chair in thought. how he found himself in 1947 was a puzzle of sorts. but he always did love a good mystery, a decent game. "yes, i see potential. great potential," he said, his words carrying on their usually silky quality, like sandpaper coated in honey. he lightly pressed the tips of his fingers together, in steeple fashion, and stared at the locket on the table. "we would need further discussion, of course. proper planning -"
"naturally, only the most careful," a younger man replied, seated across from salazar.
until tom riddle produced the very same locket he wore around his neck, salazar refused to believe this halfblood could be his heir. however, after conversing, after observing him, he supposed he could have done worse. the boy was eager; the hungry glint in his eyes was unmistakable. already he had successfully put the chamber of secrets to use, killed a mudblood, and secured a position for himself as leader of a very small army. impressive, to say the least. flawed, yes. but impressive. "that.. flint. told you everything, you say?"
"down to the last detail. if he’s correct we would be looking at approximately a hundred men, maybe more."
"two, if you count past, present, and future, i would hasten to wager," salazar stroked his chin and nodded gravely. "how familiar are you with the ministry, tom?"
"well enough. i can always use cygnus, lucius, any who have worked there -"
"good, and hogwarts?"
"like the back of my hand. dippet should be no issue, but dumbledore -"
salazar scoffed. "tell me what you know." and he did. all that had changed within the last nine hundred years. and so, everything fell perfectly into place. too perfectly. this was their chance to strike, while the rest of the wizarding world was weak. two kings, one empire. the dawning of a new era.
"we face only one option," his voice was strong, rugged, and reverberated off of the empty drywall. it used to be a bustling old newspaper office for the gerrard gazette, but since tom riddle and his followers occupied the ministry all traces of muggles had been seemingly wiped from london. this place, like so many within the city, was dead and empty. godric glanced out at the gathered faces, all looking to him for hope; he felt helpless. how could he give them any, when he kept none for himself? perhaps that was just the price he had to pay. "lord voldemort holds the ministry like a fortress. his death eaters have overrun the establishment, the government, the press, this we know," when he spoke, everyone was captivated. it was his baritone words, his deep tone that comforted them. "salazar’s up to something, he must be. and together they reign the isles," it was spoken with a distinct bitterness and sorrow. "the disappearances, the deaths, it’s only a matter of time before we risk open warfare..." he couldn’t go on.
"the only chance we have is to stand together. all of us. and create a plan of action," godric said firmly. "what was it you said about horcruxes?" he turned to a woman on his right, who replied. "his soul is split into pieces which are, in turn, stored into objects that can only be destroyed in limited ways. he has multiple," rowena ravenclaw sighed. "and while they live on, so does he." the statement met silence.
"and, if i’m not mistaken, he has moved them to safer locations since learning of his imminent defeat. the advantages one gains from knowing the future," an old man towards the back inclined his head, spectacles reflecting light from the window. a boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat beside him. the key to it all, godric thought to himself. the one who was linked to lord voldemort since he was merely one year old. marked and branded as the dark lord’s equal. a tragic story, indeed. "then what, albus, if there is no way to destroy him? at least salazar is human, at least -" but he knew that even if he had the chance, it would be difficult to kill his friend. the man he once called brother.
"let us speak to our dear friends, the peverells, hm? since i do very much believe they could be of inestimable help to us."
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