• An original ship - Tom Riddle x Number Five
• An umbrella academy and Harry Potter crossover.
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'Don't you have a real name?'
'I do. It's five.'
Tom's eyebrows furrowed.
'It's just another riddle, Tom. Figure it out like you always do.'
In which...
Five landed steadily on his feet and knocked on the large painted doors before him, which were a shade of light lime - and had three gold numbers nailed to the piece of wood. 217.
The double doors opened quickly, revealing the Handler and a stunning room - dimly lit by marigold lamps. "Ah! Just in time for a nightcap." She said, welcoming the old timer into her large apartment.
The cocktail shaker sloshed as Five paused outside the place, before taking a couple steps forwards - turning on his heel and closing the doors that were left wide open for him, cigaret lighter clicking open in the background.
The Handler strolled over to him, tall glasses of cocktail swirling around inside.
"To be clear. I take out the board -" He sighed out, refusing the glass of alcohol the woman was holding out to him. "... You get me the information I need.
No more hitmen, no more apocalypse... is that correct?" He walked towards the head of a velvety bed that was the same lime the doors were, the Handler placing herself comfortably that bed - paper and cocktail in hand.
"Fancy name, apocalypse. That's the deal." He nodded slightly, pressing his lips together into a small thin line.
"Then I'm in."
The Handler grinned, holding out the piece of paper between two fingers - ash grey smoke wafting through the air.
He reached over and grabbed the paper, which was lined in gold - opening it to find a place, and year written neatly in cursive writing.
The Lonely Lodges Inn. Oshkosh. Wisconsin, 1982.
• The present day : Saturday morning ; 2020 •
Tom Riddle retreated from the breakfast table and made his way up to the Slytherin common room upon hearing that Five had a, job to do. Now, don't mistaken him for a stalker - he was just curious by nature. Very curious.
The Slytherin prefect took silent strides, deciding on waiting before the entrance wall to the common room - expertly placing an illusion charm over himself so that he could go by unseen, a cold feeling washing over him as he did so - as if someone dumped a bucket of icy water over him.
Time did not disappoint him, as the two people he was waiting for soon arrived. He slipped into the common room with them, watching as Cicero placed an illusion charm on himself - hearing Five say something about remembering to stay out of the situation.
A small black briefcase was pulled out from beneath the large emerald sofa just in-front of the unlit hearth - the old timer asking the platinum blond to hold onto the end of his navy blazer.
Tom swiftly moved forwards, discreetly placing a hand onto the briefcase - feeling himself being pulled into something, feeling the same sense as if he were apparating - body shifting through a temporal at light speed.
The two landed gracefully, Cicero stumbling slightly but quickly regaining his balance.
Tom watched as the mysterious boy pulled out a lined piece of paper from his pocket, as if he were checking something - before abandoning the ebony briefcase beside an old Bentley, and placing the paper back into his pocket.
—
The sound of people chattering became more evident as Five pushed open a wood framed door, watching as it stayed open without his touch for a moment longer - telling him that Cicero was still tailing him.
He looked around, lively accordion music playing as people dressed in clothing similar to traditional Austrian pranced around happily in the cabin like lodge.
He stepped up towards a woman with a cinnamon curly afro (sorting out a box of something), folding his hand together in front of him as he spoke politely.
"Excuse me." "Uff da. Ya snuck up on me there." She exclaimed as she stood upright, examining the - apparent - teen before her. "If ya looking for the cookies, we don't put them out 'till 3."
"I can hardly wait." He replied with slight sarcasm hanging off his words. "Uh, do you happen to know where the Midwest Soybean Society is meeting?" He said, fidgeting with his fingers as he looked around.
"Sure do, Muskellunge Banquet room. You looking for your mom? She in for the convention?" She said cheerfully, Five not paying attention to her question as he peered off to a nearby vending machine.
"Hey, could I get some change?" He asked as he pulled out some leftover us cash from his blazer pocket - making sure he didn't accidentally pull out any galleons.
"Oh sure! I'll just look in my purse." Five sighed softly as he pulled against his blazer lapel, the afro lady searching through her dull purple bumbag.
"Only a nickel and a couple of dimes..." she looked up, smiling. "Oh! You... are... in... luck, mister." She said, placing a couple of proper coins into the boy's pale hand.
He looked down at it and chuckled softly, eyes meeting hers as he grasped the small chunks of metal.
"You know some say that the best luck is to die at the right time." The woman was left speechless as he walked away to the vending machine.
Dim lights shone as Five pushed a several buttons, placing two of the brass coins into the machine.
He watched as it pathetically wired, the chocolate bar getting stuck just before it was about to topple, eyes furrowing as he pressed several buttons again. Five began to bang his hands against it, shaking as he spoke frustratedly, scoffing. "Come on! Stupid mother fudge nutter!"
He hit the side of his body against it, attempting to dislodge the stuck bar of candy violently. "Ah! Fuckin' fudge nutter!" He gave it one final shake before kicking the glass coverage, the thick thing giving out and shattering - middle section still separating the boy and the candy bar.
He scratched the back of his neck frustratedly, turning on his heel swiftly and walking towards the board of directors meeting - spying a wide oblong cake that was carefully decorated, just sitting there without any coverage.
Five ran his forefinger against it, sticking it in his mouth as he looked around for a second, and moved over to a nearby emergency axe.
It was twirled in his hands, the boy gazing at it for a second as the light bounced off the polished metal- hearing Cicero laughing behind him quietly, whispering in his ear through sniggers.
"Boy you've got some muscle in that body of yours, you seriously just broke a machine! And a fudge nutter? Why did you want that muggle food so badly?"
"For what I'm about to do, I was going to need it."
He exhaled sharply, and stuck his forefinger in his mouth once again - sucking the remnants of the vanilla icing off it, and walking into the meeting room.
Brandishing the large, deadly axe.
•
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