Ink and Parchment ~ blood and bone

21

Tom breathed a huge sigh of relief as the small wooden boat finally hit the rocky surface of the small island in the middle of the cavern.

After stealing Hufflepuff's cup he had taken a few weeks to assimilate with the horcrux, foreign memories pounding in his mind as he painstakingly searched and sorted through them. It was hard to believe he had not sensed himself growing insane. Even in the memories Tom could see how he was quicker to anger, acting more and more on impulse instead of strategy and intelligence.

At least he had a second chance. Not many others could say the same.

Like the inferi in this cave.

When he had thought himself ready Tom had immediately set off to acquire one of his last horcruxes, Slytherin's locket, from the cave near the beach he used to visit as a child. He had to admit although the protections seemed excessive they were quite the deterrent. Even he felt ill at ease drifting over a lake full to the brim of reanimated dead.

He had lost his taste for necromancy that was for sure.

Stepping out of the boat Tom brushed his pants down before he made his way over to the stone basin. The poison in it lit up its surroundings in an ominous green light and for just one morbid second Tom wondered what it would be like to drink it – to be confronted with pure undulated despair.

Instead he pulled out the salamander he had brought with him for that specific purpose. He had no doubt he could dismantle his own curse but the thought of alerting his counterpart made him wary. Of course Voldemort was probably in no fit state to investigate his (their?) horcruxes anyway but as always it's better to be safe than sorry.

So Tom started the arduous time consuming task of feeding the salamander the potion bit by tiny bit.

Tom quickly tired of the process. He supposed it would be better if he was feeding it to a muggle so he could see the effects of the potion but as it were he was now simply bored. And cold. And tired of standing in this stupid cave.

Feeding the salamander the last drop of poison Tom killed it quickly so it wouldn't set off any traps and dropped it to the cave floor. He edged closer to the basin and peered down into it, a foreboding feeling growing in his chest.

It certainly looked like his locket, overly garish and clunky in the dim light, but it didn't feel like it. Whenever Tom was near his horcruxes he was filled with a pleasant sort of warmth, as if he had finally been reunited with something he had lost long ago.

This locket didn't feel like anything but a clump of metal.

Picking it up and threading the chain through his hands Tom studied it curiously. Perhaps without any ambient magic to feed on it had gone silent? The cup certainly hadn't been up to conversation, unlike the smarmy diadem.

But both of those objects radiated magic. This didn't.

Running his hands over the metal again Tom tried to open it and blinked in surprise when the clasp came undone.

It shouldn't have come undone.

Panic building in his veins Tom tore it open and grabbed at the deceivingly innocent note sitting in it.

To the dark lord – I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B

"Buggering fucking bastard!"

Eliza winced as a sharp pain seared down her scar and rubbed her face soothingly until the pain faded.