"Is everyone ready?" Blake whispered. It was 5am on the Saturday, and he, Hermione, Harry and a very grumpy Ron had assembled outside the out of door toilet.
"Yeah!"
"Yep!"
"Let's just get this over with." Ron half grumbled half yawned. "I want to go back to sleep."
Blake rolled his eyes.
"Ok, I'm going in - follow in exactly 20 seconds after."
He entered the bathroom, and at once, as expected, Myrtle came whooshing towards him.
"Blakey!" she squealed. "I knew you'd visit soon!"
"Sorry, Myrtle," Blake said with a small smile, feigning a bashful look. "I've just been so busy with revision and stuff. I've learnt a couple of new spells actually - d'you wanna see them?"
"Of course!" Myrtle squealed again. Blake aligned his mental countdown.
18 19 20…
"Periculum!"
A brilliant jet of light, far more spectacular than the Stunning spell or Cruciatus Curse, whooshed out with a loud crack from the wand, and Myrtle seemed bedazzled by the sight - she didn't seem to notice anyone enter the bathroom. Thank Merlin.
Now's the hard bit.
For the next 10 or so minutes, Blake did his best to engage in small talk with Myrtle, the kind she would like, while simultaneously trying to steer the conversation towards the Chamber of Secrets and the Heir.
"By the way, Myrtle, something was weighing on my mind," he said, conversationally.
"What is it, Blakey?"
"Y'know, I haven't told you yet, but I'm actually hoping to be the Head Boy when it's our turn," Blake said with a faux blush. Just as expected, Myrtle cooed and fanned over that statement. He repressed the urge to roll his eyes, and the slight guilt from lying.
"Anyway, I've been doing some research on previous Head Boys, even during your time. D'you remember any of them?" he asked her. "I don't think I've gotten to anyone that you might've had yet."
"I think the last one I had was… Alexander something?" Myrtle said, thinking deeply.
Blake shook his head.
"No, he's probably next then. The last one I read about was someone called Tom Riddle."
Myrtle thought deeply for a second.
"He was a Slytherin Prefect, I think. We didn't speak much, y'know, because I'm muggleborn, but I heard from everyone that he was very nice and handsome - not as handsome as you though, Blakey!" she blushed as deep as a ghost could, before ducking into the toilet again.
Yuck.
Anyway, I guess that fits the profile - Slytherin, charismatic, headboy, intelligent. The fact that Myrtle of all people isn't complaining about him speaks volumes. She complains about anyone that doesn't pander to her.
But it's nothing definitive.
"Hmm… fair enough. Can you do me a favour, Myrtle? If anyone mentions Tom Riddle's name here - or any other headboy - could you let me know next time I visit? I'm trying to get as much information as I can."
"Of course, Blakey!"
"Thanks, Myrtle - maybe if I become Headboy we can sort out some nice ghost-friendly things to do in here," he said with a small smile.
"Awww, Blakey, you're the best!" Myrtle beamed. For a second, the poor boy thought the ghost was going to try to kiss him, but luckily, someone saved him.
"Achoo! Gosh, I'm so sick!" Hermione's voice rang loudly from the bathroom entrance. Thank God, Blake prayed.
"Good thing I FOUND IT! The toilet tissue!"
Blake almost jumped for joy. They found it!
"Sorry, Myrtle - I need to get out now - distract her for me!" he whispered. Without waiting for a response, he disillusioned and muted himself, and left immediately, despite Myrtle's complaints.
I hope I never have to talk to her again.
5 hours later…
"Had a nice nap, Ron?" Blake said snarkily. The Slytherin boy's new favourite pastime was ragebaiting the ginger boy. It was easy and fun.
"Blake-"
"Anyway, where is it?" Blake asked with a grin, interrupting and ignoring Ron.
"It's at a sink - on one of the taps, there's an emblem of a snake!" Harry said excitedly.
"I think you were right, Blake," Hermione said, equally excited. "It's got to be a Parseltongue entrance. Plenty of people could've seen it and tried to mess with it, magically and otherwise, so Slytherin needed something only his Heir would have!"
"Good stuff, guys - next thing to do is figure out who the Heir is."
"You have an idea, don't you?" Hermione asked him. "You were asking Myrtle about a Tom Riddle. Does he have to do with it?"
Might as well tell them if it helps solve this and builds trust, Blake thought. Worst case scenario, I accidentally accuse a geriatric or a dead man of being Voldemort, best case, I got it right and saved everyone ages.
"Yeah. Tom Riddle was a Slytherin Prefect during Myrtle's last year alive, and I think he was - is - Voldemort."
The Golden Trio looked at him agape.
"Myrtle died ages ago!" Ron exclaimed.
"Come on, Ron. Dumbledore's still alive and kicking, and he's like 110! Voldemort's almost as powerful, it makes perfect sense!"
"But how do you know?" Hermione asked. "Riddle isn't even a Sacred 28!"
Should I tell them he's actually a half blood? Blake thought, somewhat amused. She's already surprised that Voldemort's not the highest rank of pure blood. Imagine her reaction if she knew.
Nah, I don't want some emotional outburst right now - we need to stay focused on finding out how the Heir acts.
"So what? Plenty of lower class pure bloods are evil. Anyways, that's not important. I have good reason to believe it is Riddle, or Voldemort, but we need to figure out how he's operating. It could be a possession thing, but I've not seen any turbans recently. I was thinking the Imperius curse but I'm not sure…"
"Technically, it might be a different type or way of possession," Harry inputted. "Voldemort doesn't have to be on the Heir's face, or that large - we don't know."
Ron nodded his agreement. "Yeah, we just don't know - our best bet is to catch the Heir in the act - but how?"
All four of them pondered for a while, but no one could come up with a sound strategy.
We could just set up alarm charms on the tap, like me and Zabini are doing with the dorm door. But if the Heir is Voldemort, or Riddle, or both, they'll definitely know. The last thing I want to do is let them know we're onto them.
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