76 CH76 - Endless Greed
Stepping out of the Floo, Edmund vanished the dust that had fallen onto his shoulders from the shabby fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron. A large circular room stood before him, decorated with marble tiling and a glass skylight covering most of the two-story high ceiling—the Slytherin Manor foyer.
In a move that was nontraditional compared to ordinary wizarding homes, the Floo had been placed in the outermost section of the manor, as far away from the center as possible. Although the decision would be frowned upon by most, to Edmund, it was transparent to see what Marvolo's intention behind these actions was.
Security.
No one knew better than the dark lord how easily the Floo could be manipulated by those seeking to gain entry to an otherwise perfectly protected area. Hell, Voldemort had installed multiple followers into the Floo Network Authority during the Wizarding War for that express purpose. During raids, these Death Eaters were responsible for secretly cutting the Floo access to certain abodes, preventing their inhabitants from making a timely getaway. That was not to mention the countless oblivious wizards that did not lock down or protect their fireplace enough, allowing for easy invasion.
The Floo was a glaring defensive flaw that Marvolo had been loath to introduce to the island. However, it could not be avoided. The manor was built to be the public face of House Slytherin, not an impenetrable fortress. It had to be readily accessible, especially during social events.
And so, the dark lord had done everything he could to mitigate the damages. The space was separately warded from the rest of the island, designed to detect intruders and eject them with extreme prejudice. To this effect, it could become an inescapable box at a moment's notice, trapping whoever dared to enter it. During periods when no visitors were expected, the only way to exit it was with a password, which Voldemort had slyly made using parseltongue; the same one that Edmund had just uttered.
§Slytherin§, he hissed.
'Simple but effective,' Edmund sighed as he removed the glamours he had applied on himself. Rather than heading to the library or the training room as had become the norm for him, he turned to a direction that he visited much less often: the residential wing.
Through the corridors, past the magical paintings, up the staircase, and down to the very end of the hall. Edmund stopped before a wooden door that looked no different from the hundreds of others he had passed. This one was special to him, though. It was his. The hinges creaked ever so slightly as he closed them behind him, breathing in the fresh scent of pine drifting in from the open window. The headboard of a large bed leaned against a blue accent wall, its fluffy mattress looking ever so inviting after a long shift.
'Focus,' Edmund repeated to himself.
He moved to a wooden dresser in the corner that was adorned with a beautiful three-panelled folding mirror on top of it. Ignoring his worn reflection, he opened the drawer at the very bottom left of it. There, nestled between a pile of cushions, sat a familiar white egg.
Throughout the summer, Edmund had diligently fed the receptacle with magic, strengthening it slowly but steadily. After sessions with Marvolo, it was hard to imagine that he would have enough energy left over for the task. Yet, in this aspect, Edmund was blessed. His reserves were minuscule compared to the dark lord, but his magical regeneration was unparalleled thanks to the nexum aeturnum. Magic flowed into him constantly like a raging river, never halting in its momentum until he was filled to the brim with it. Even then, signs of progress had been gradual but evident nonetheless. However, the greed of the being within the shell seemed to be neverending.
Initially, this had excited him.
'After all, the more magic required, the more powerful the creature will be, right?' Edmund thought to himself as he moved to a small armchair by the window.
But no. Something was off. Something inexplicable. Lately, he felt uneasy interacting with the egg, and the feeling had only grown as the days passed. Nevertheless, he had continued his daily ritual unerringly, hoping he would be proven wrong.
"moooorrreeee. giiiiveee meeee mooooorrreeeeee," came a grating whispery voice, almost indistinguishable from the wind blowing outside.
His danger sense activated, buzzing lowly in the back of his mind. 'Nevermind then,' Edmund grimaced as he backed up, bumping against the wall in haste.
'Okay,' he mentally conversed with himself. 'It's not really a threat right now, but that could change at any point. The more I feed "it," the stronger it will become. But I can't be sure how quickly that will happen either. Maybe... Should I?...' Tentatively, he opened up the rarely used second ability of his mind-sense, trying to get a hint of the being's emotions.
The slightest bit of satisfaction.
Overpowered by greed.
Hunger.
Desire.
Bloodlust.
Impatience.
'More. More! MORE!' it seemed to scream.
Edmund snapped the section of his brain shut, panting softly at the leftover sensations. "I need to talk to the speaker," he murmured.
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- (Scene Break) -
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Hot, red wax drizzled onto the corner of a long piece of parchment, sizzling as it came into contact with the material. The scroll bore the signatures of six individuals, written in an elegant scrawl, its words striking and prominent.
"We, the Board of Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, do hereby invite the Lord Slytherin to join our body, restoring their place as a ruling authority within this hallowed place of learning."
His fingers curled into a fist, a man pressed down onto the parchment with his knuckles, pushing his signet ring into the semi-melted substance. When he pulled away next, the seal of House Slytherin had been stamped upon it, there for the whole world to see.
Standing to address his fellow governors, Marvolo smiled broadly. "I cannot thank you all enough for this honour. Let's get to work, shall we?"
