Legacy of Evil: Sins of our Fathers (Patreon)

I know what you're thinking. 'Oh Tom, why don't you just kill her and be done with it? What's the difference between before and now?' Well, my murderous shoulder devil, the reason was very simple. Killing Nazi's is basically a national past time and I feel like if they included snacks, a lot more people would be involved. The second one involved human and magical beast trafficking, among other crimes and the people who were there, just got squashed because of it. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes-right? Killing Nazi's and criminal bystanders was one thing.

Killing the headmistress of the local school was quite another, which is why I had opted to knock out rather than kill her mooks as well. Besides, I couldn't quite get answers from a corpse.... Well, I suppose technically I could, but it'd be damaged and scant at best, and somehow, I think even if I did manage it, I wasn't too keen on killing someone who seemed utterly convinced I was Actual Satan.

Not that she felt the same way. Spell after spell was repelled as I kept fighting back, as for the first time I actually fought someone who would have been acknowledged as a magical peer of mine in both study and in dueling. You didn't become Headmistress of a magical school by collecting bottlecaps after all, but I think the most surprising thing for me was just how.... Easy it was.

She was innovative, sure. Her sweat would be flung out, converted into icicles that threatened to skewer me. She'd animate the rugs under my feet, the furniture in the hallway and all the while continue her darndest to try to disarm me.

But it was all nothing I hadn't seen before, nothing I hadn't thought of before and the more I fought, the more disappointed I became. She was a war hero, she was someone that Dumbledore had fought alongside if Alexander Trese was correct in saying-was this really, the extent of her power? I knocked away a particular bright spell and for a moment there was a lull in the fight.

She stared at me, confused and frowned as I realized there was a faint, silvery glow to her eyes that had only grown the longer we fought before she finally spoke.

"You've not used a single unforgivable."

I shrugged. "Tit for tat? I'll answer one if you answer one. As a headmistress, you should like it when people ask questions. I give my word as well that I shall be truthful so long as you are in turn. I so swear, I so swear, I so swear." Three times I answered and if Louhi was shocked before, she looked utterly flabbergasted now. She then proceeded to flinch as I waved my wand, only to blink as the furniture and other marks of our duel began to repair itself. At the expression on her face, I remarked calmly.

"This place is a work of art. I'd sooner cut off my own arm than damage it."

She stared. She finally made her choice, as she stowed her wand and stood straighter, more relaxed as she raised her chin. "I think Mr. Riddle, we've been coming cross-purpose at each other. May we start over?"

"Please. I do have a box." I wanted answers, and finally it seemed I'd have them as we went back, paused to move the still unconscious toughs into a corner of the box and proceeded to sit down. To my joy, we made it just in time for the middle of act two as Louhi was quiet before she finally spoke.

"Tom Riddle, what do you know of Hags?"

"Less than I had hoped." I admitted freely as I continued. "Hags had always been a mystery to me, more so when its clear that not many seem to have a clear research concerning them. I do know there was a Hag who inspired the story of.... Grandmother. I also know that there was another Hag, whose story involved the inspiration for Snow White."

Louhi nodded, before she spoke. "The hag that the wizarding world knows at large did indeed, take the name of Grandmother. Names have power and none know that more than hags themselves. A hag is a piece of a shattered whole you see." I paid close attention as she continued on.

"Most hags nowadays are but shadows of what they used to be, with no more magic within them to so much as move a feather, let alone what they were capable of. In the days of old, a Hag was a truly terrible threat." Her voice was grim as she spoke.

"They could weaponize the strands of fate, a privilege retained from where they originally came from. Not to the extent they were said to do of course, but the future, the present were their toys beyond that of wizardkind and they grew a reputation as soothsayers and as curse creators. Because for them, manipulating a wizards fate was as easy as saying the right word, at the right time. The only fate they were blind to, were their own."

I grew much more interested. This sounded familiar to me now, and as I thought carefully about the locations Hags were most seen, I finally spoke.

"Norns. Hells bells, Hag's are degraded Norns."

Louhi stared at me as if she couldn't believe what she was looking at as she slowly nodded. I continued on, the basic structure of my theory coming together as I pieced together the clues.

"When I first tried to enter Russia, I was met by a house elf in Finland who told me Russia was barred. He then proceeded to summon Red Sun at me, a power supposedly held by Grandmother. He was there on instructions by his master, someone with a vested interest in keeping me out, away from bad knowledge. So, I'm guessing his master is you."

I looked at her as I continued on. "And I'm guessing either you're a hag yourself or a descendent of one. It makes sense for the Russian Minister to have a Seer on the payroll, and under his eye. But you're not just either." I continued on, glancing at the thugs as I added.

"With your wartime experience and the way these mooks obeyed you, as well as you keeping an eye on the border? I'm guessing you're also Intelligence or are highly connected to it."

She was quiet and then finally chuckled. With a more playful look in her eye, she spoke. "Ten points for Slytherin, Mr. Riddle. To answer your question, you're more or less correct. But my reasons for attempting to keep you out is as much personal as anything else. You wondered why my house elf had control over the Rider? It is because I gave it to him, because that is my right."

She looked at me somberly as she spoke. "The Baba Yaga is my mother. And for all our sakes, we keep her locked away for good. A portion of her foresight is mine as well, both from my own talent and from what I claimed from her."

She had my full attention now as she smiled ruefully. "I looked into the future. I saw the name of Voldemort, and the rise of a Dark Lord coming to Russia, seeking a life trapped in a matryoshka. When I looked further, I... Caught glimpses and pieces. I saw fear, I saw death... I...." Her voice trailed off, and then I spoke quietly.

"Dumbledore dead, falling off the tower of his own school." She flinched and I breathed out slowly, looking back to the play.

"I am aware of the visions. And at an age when I could process them, I made a choice to never let that be my destiny. I don't want power, I don't want riches or immortality, the goals of my younger days are all but dust now. At my age, I simply know that I know nothing... And THAT gets me more than anything nowadays."

I looked at her as I continued on. "The world is so much more vast, so much more.... More, that I want to see and learn it all. And when I die, I'll keep going and keep seeking. But till that time, I have skills and I have power; I am using it to help a friend." I was quiet before continuing, as the ballet continued in the background.

".... I need to talk to her. She's the only one with the knowledge to help me, if all you say is true."

She sighed out, looking tired. "Your cause is just, but I cannot. Her presence heralds more danger than one, powerful Hag released back into the world. The Russian Ministry as well as the Soviets have a vested interest in keeping her locked away."

I nodded, sadly. "I understand. For what its worth, I apologize."

There was a brief moment of startlement and then a jerk from her body, as I blasted her with a stunning spell without my wand. That done, I took my wand out and several glass bottles as I pressed it against her head, slowly dragging out the memories I wanted carefully. One after the other, before proceeding to do the same to the other knocked out thugs.

A few memory charms later for them as well as the employees who interacted with me, and I believe I had a good chance of staying forgotten. They would know they attended the ballet. They would also know they had met up, to discuss the possibility of the Soviets on the wizarding world further, little intrigues and so on that such a meeting would entail. Certainly with time, they would know about the memory charm and deal with it, but by the time that happened, I was confident I would be able to get away.

In the end I thought ruefully to myself as I left the theater and strode into the Russian night, I was still Tom Riddle in many aspects.

I just couldn't keep my hands off rare and exotic things. The secrets of a powerful hag were going to be mine, one way or another and with this thought in mind, I vanished in a crack and was gone.