The Last Hunter
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Legacy of Evil: Under my Skin
🕑 Added 2024-04-11 01:31:51 +0000 UTC"The MACUSA thanks you for your aid. But it's time for y'all to leave. We'll be holding negotiations ourselves and we wouldn't wanna accidentally have you get between us. Accidents happen after all."
Conan actually growled, a deep rumble in his throat as his flesh fingers turned white, clutching his rifle tightly. With eye contact with Jeff, I made a subtle gesture caught by Conan and he stopped before I smiled icily, turning on the old Riddle charm and mindset.
"Crystal clear, you fucking piece of shit."
There was a pregnant pause that gave birth to an entire dynasty of awkward pauses as everyone, Conan and posse included stared at me as if I had gone crazy. Sheriff Jeff's eyebrows had left the stratosphere as I smiled and in my old, utterly refined voice I had honed in Hogwarts, I continued to speak sweetly.
"Oh, I'm sorry, was that far too subtle? I suppose I'd need to be neck deep in moonshine and my own sister before I can be understood by you Neanderthalic throwbacks. Stick jigglers. Brokeback Mountain rejects. Horse humping-"
That did it.
Someone threw a spell, I ducked as it hit someone else and as Conan yelled and gave the peoples elbow to the closest cowboy, I swung my fist for Jeff and listened with satisfaction as I broke his nose.
Unlike the original Riddle, I had actually spent time working on my physical form. Being a lumberjack had been an excellent way to keep in shape, and I had done my best to retain it ever since. So should I ever find a moment when magic was useless, I could at least unga-bunga my way through. It had to have worked for Godric, it would work for me. Why else would that crazy son of a bitch own a sword?
And then three stunning spells hit me, and I found myself knocked out.
=====
In the present time, Conan snorted. "My hairy ass you did this on purpose."
"Well, perhaps not like this." I admitted as I added. "I was just angry. I... The sort of attitude that Jeff was displaying. I've seen it before." My hand gripping the bar squeezed a little tighter, an old memory of Hogwarts surfacing with images of a nascent cult from the shadows, intermingled with my thoughts of other groups, other times. From the Nazi's to the Death Eaters, this constant need to lord oneself over people, to put them down for no other reason than 'purity' had especially angered me in this body, with these memories.
I had seen where the road to both lies, I knew firsthand what an utter waste of time it was. Wizard, Mundane... It seemed none of us were ever happy, till we were grinding some random under our heel. And as much as I wanted to, I could not curse the world or force them to think otherwise... Not in any way that would be meaningful. I chuckled ruefully.... It was strange. I had so much power, so much knowledge and yet, I was powerless to do the things I truly wished to do. I could not be a leader, not knowing what I did. So bereft of ideas, seeing such a thing in my face... It was no wonder I had lost my temper.
Conan stared at me, thoughtfully before he suddenly asked. "Tom. Were you a Grindelwald supporter?"
I glanced at Conan, startled as he stared at me through his black eye before he spoke gently. "Many people forget-the first people the Nazi's conquered were their own. And Grindelwald, he was a charismatic wizard it was said. Someone for whom the Dark Arts and those who studied them would flock to. Now you're a bit young for it, but there are families. Those who hid themselves away, for fear or shame of the legacy they had helped create."
He began to check off on his fingers. "You're powerful. You know magic like some know their own backyard. You know the dark arts and can speak casually of it. Your dueling skills are incredible. And always, you seem to hide some specter of guilt I've left alone out of respect. But now, as we're a bit tied up?" He smiled and chuckled.
"I thought I should tell you-I don't care. You are Tom to me, and whatever your past? In the here and now, you're doing your best. So, no more self-flagellation. The you that you are now, is the only one that matters."
I blinked. Ok, wow.
For someone who didn't have the entire picture, that was far too close to my situation than expected and I stared at Conan with a thoughtful expression. The werewolf was a very observant man, and I wondered for a moment what had happened to him in the original timeline. Finally, slowly I considered and then spoke.
"First of all, I want to say I deeply appreciate your words. But no, I'm not a Grindelwald supporter. Nor am I descended from his supporters." I paused and added, taking the plunge.
"What I am-what I was, was intended to be his superior." Having said that, I waited but Conan said nothing, simply waiting patiently as I fought to find the words, my silver tongue vanishing as I paced and scowled, before finally speaking flatly.
"I grew up with nothing. And like many in such a state, I dreamed of greatness. The path it led me on left corpses in my wake, and magic so foul as if I were to share the specifics now, you'd kill me and I'd let you." I breathed out slowly.
The Diary. Myrtle, so shocked and surprised as her body seized up and dropped.
The Ring. Riddle Senior, my father and my grandparents. I had felt nothing but contempt there, and their deaths were still a pleasant memory to my shame.
The Locket, the Cup-four items, already created when I 'woke' up and realized just who exactly, was looking back at me in the mirror. I had hunted down and burned all four myself, then proceeded to go rat hunting after to work out the final dregs of what could have been, what would have been if I had not appeared.
I felt exhausted, looking away as I added. "I am a very good wizard... Just not a very great man."
Conan listened in silence, thoughtful before he examined his silvery hand, turning it back and forth before he finally spoke.
"I hugged my son, because you gave me the means to do so. You saved my family." His eyes flicked to my face as he rose to his feet, walking to me as he paused and continued. "I see someone trying to be better than what they were, and how can we, werewolves think ill of a fellow monster who dreams of being a man? It is only our greatest desire after all too. There are those who may revel in such things."
He looked at the bars, growled and walked towards it as he gripped it in one hand and then another as he added.
"If so, you and I will dissuade them of this thought, the hard way."
And with a snarl, muscles bulging and the prosthetic I gave him shimmering, I watched to my utter shock as Conan casually, ripped apart the iron bars of our cell like some sideshow performance. As I stared at the hole, I glanced at him and asked astonished.
"Could you always do that?"
"No." Conan remarked casually as he paused and grinned. "I was always in two minds on the subject. Now however, I feel like every part of me is following the same beat and the world feels so much more vibrant now!"
He stepped through, grabbed the box that had my wand and smashed it open, before asking. "Now what do we do?" He flipped it to me, handle first and I paused before taking it gently. As I did, there was a brief rush of power-light flared briefly around me as if my wand was welcoming me back and with a growing smile, I flicked it and fixed the black eye as I spoke.
"We have work to do."
=====
We rushed out of the holding cells, as softly as we could. A reveal spell had showed me enough, the soundproof aspects and so forth. Still as we ran, I wondered at the lack of security till I realized what kind of mindset we were dealing with and scoffed.
Wizards. Take away their wands, barricade the cell with anti-apparition charms and you had an imprisoned wizard. Shoddy security, lazy thinking and part of me was immensely disappointed. As we ran however, Conan began to slow down and I paused, looking back at him as he sniffed the air before frowning.
"What's wrong?" I asked and he growled. "... I smell blood."
"Can you track it?" I asked and he shot a sharp look at me which softened, when he realized I was utterly serious and he sniffed the air, breathing deeply before finally speaking as he pointed down a hall away from the exit.
"That way."
I immediately turned and began running that direction, Conan Greyback no less swift as we ran together. As we did, around the bend two wizards strode-talking to each other before realizing what was happening. One yelped, going for his wand holster and fired at Conan, missing as Conan actually leaped down to all fours, a blur of motion that tackled the wizard smack into the stomach and onto the floor where a silver hand gripped his skull and bashed it against the floor.
The second managed to grab his wand and just as swiftly lose it as I cried out. "Expelliarmus!" As his wand flew out, I made a gesture and turned his robes into a straitjacket, shoving him into one of the open cells as I slammed the door. After a moment consideration, I flicked my wand and gave him a mouth gag.
Conan blinked, staring at the unconscious wizard before he chuckled.
"I think I am liking this very much."
"Me too." I confessed, before adding as I knelt by the unconscious wizard. "Let me try something." Conan was game and as he moved aside I pointed my wand and murmured a spell to wake him up.
To his credit, he became very still as I nodded in approval and spoke. "Where is Jeffs office?" The wizard with the gag made a muffled sound in an attempt to convince his friend to say nothing, and then I added.
"If you don't talk, then Conan here might help himself to a little bite. He's a bit peckish you see."
"Utterly famished." Growled Conan, his silver hand gripping him by the throat as he rose and lifted him by it. The wizards eyes grew terrified as he choked out.
"Sixth floor! Sixth floor!"
"And which floor is this?" I said swiftly as the wizard spoke. "Tenth!"
"How many in the building? And where are my effects?" Snarled Conan as the wizard spoke. "Skeleton crew! Most went with the Sheriff! A-and you'll find it in the storage level! Fourth floor!" Conan growled again as he brought his face close. "If you are lying? I'd avoid nights with a full moon."
And he slammed him against the bars, knocking him out as I tsk'd and stunned the one in the straitjacket. As we helped ourselves to their wands, Conan said idly. "Ten levels. This is a MACUSA waystation. They used to be more prevalent during the war and were an excellent mixture of safehouse and forward base."
"Converted into a sheriff's office." I added as we kept going, following the bloody scent. Conan nodded as he added. "It is a good design. Not as extensive, but sturdy and well used. We must be cautious though-if anyone gets a whiff of trouble and an alarm goes out, the Floo network is connected to the main Congress building and we'll be neck deep in Aurors."
"The more things change..." I muttered as I added. "He mentioned a skeleton crew. The defenses of the Lakota Tribe should help, but we can't count on it. We're running out of time."
"So what's the plan?" Asked Conan as he followed his nose, my thoughts running rapidly as I spoke. "We grab whatever proof we can, get to the tribe, try to prevent a fight. Jeff is definitely up to something."
"Perhaps he is working with the Naagloshii?"" Suggested Conan grimly, growling at the thought of it. "For what purpose though?"
"He could be the Skinwalker." I said before adding. "I couldn't get much of a read on him. Too many wizards. He might have left something here though."
"Let's hope we know it when we see it." Said Conan and my thoughts flicked to the ghostly Voldemort, as I said with a grin that was all teeth and no smile.
"Leave that to me."
Eventually, we came to a wall with the following portrait. A wizard, dressed in a blue union soldiers uniform and posing. As he looked at us, he raised an eyebrow as he spoke. "Password?"
I glanced to Conan, he gave me the smallest of nods. Whatever was bleeding, it came from behind the portrait. I turned to the portrait and immediately flicked my wand.
"Bombarda!"
"Hey, that's not-!" He ducked swiftly.
The portrait exploded, the protections it normally had to prevent that sort of thing collapsing as I winced and eyed my wand. "....I didn't mean to make it THAT strong."
Conan chortled. "Ah my friend, but now there is a hole and we are free to enter! Sooner done, soonest finished!" And he led the way, rushing in as I followed after. Though not before producing an illusion of the wall for anyone looking this way.
It won't fool the determined, but perhaps long enough for our purposes.
What we found in there was not what either of us expected.
It might had been a cell once, but that purpose was long since changed. It was a nice-looking bedroom, complete with a false window spelled to look like random locales and currently set to a pine forest with mist. The scent of medical potions wafted and lingered, fresh flowers in a vase almost masking the deeper, engrained scent of blood that pervaded the room. Lying on the bed under the covers was a bandage wrapped woman, her eyes exposed and closed before they opened and regarded us. Not a hint of fear in her expression, as behind her on the dresser where the vase was, was a picture.
A wizards photo, featuring a wedding as the woman-looking radiant and laughing in silence danced with Amos Slade, before cutting to dance to Jeff-older, proud and paternal as I noted the similarities.
".... You're Jeff's daughter. And Amo's first wife." I said finally, glancing at her as she nodded, once.
Conan and I exchanged looks.
This... Things suddenly became a wee bit, more complicated.
