Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

Dark Wizards & Death Eaters

Good morning, little siren.

I'm afraid you will spend tonight alone, as I will be dealing with some business out of the country for the evening. I would have you stay with me this Saturday night, but as always, it is your choice.

I adjure you to choose correctly.

Obsessively and compulsively,

TMR

Tom sat across from Dominik Hausler. They were in a dark cave, deep in the heart of the giant's labyrinth, within the cliffside on the outskirts of Tirana. A torch of green flame lit the room, casting an eerie glow on the wizards' faces.

"And here you are, at last. The one they call Voldemort," breathed Hausler, in his guttural dialect. His eyes flicked over Riddle. "Is this your true form? Your hood obscured your face when I took the vow."

Tom tilted his head. "I was polyjuiced when we first met in Azkaban. This is my true form."

Hausler cocked an eyebrow. "A rather pretty form for one in search of such hideous forms of magic."

Tom smirked. "Well. You know what they say. Never judge a book by its cover."

Hausler didn't smile. He gazed at Tom soberly, the scar slashing downward over his face gave him a permanent frown on one side of his face. "I always give honor where honor is due. I have yet to thank you for getting me out of that hellhole."

Tom looked at him blankly. "Your thanks is engraved into your arm." His eyes flicked down at the dark mark marring Hausler's pale, flaky skin.

The serpent almost seemed to move, sliding out of the skull's hollow orifice.

They both gazed at the mark and then their eyes met. Hausler gave a gravelly chuckle. "So it is. Better than wasting away in a dank cell. I must say, I had my doubts that you could do it."

"I never promise something that I cannot deliver."

Hausler inclined his head. "I guess that makes you a right sight better than Gellert. He was a powerful wizard, but he wagged his tongue overmuch, promising the moon."

"Which leads me to my question," Tom replied. "How was Grindelwald so powerful?"

"The dark arts," Hausler responded. "How else do you think?"

"Which dark magic, specifically?"

"I don't know everything, Voldemort. Grindelwald always played his cards close to the chest, as it were."

Tom's jaw tensed. "You've had time to recover from your stint in Azkaban. You were an overseer of many of the magical experiments conducted at Nurmengard. You have to know more than you're letting on. Shall I have a look inside your mind? I am the most powerful Legilimens you'll ever meet. Queenie Goldstein has nothing on me."

Hausler chuckled. "So you know bout ol' Queenie, eh? Treacherous little bitch, that one."

Tom said nothing. His eyes were hard.

Hausler cleared his throat. "I do know many things. I can teach you how to create Inferi. I do know many things about the Obscurus. But it's a raw and dangerous and unpredictable form of magic. Still... many of the things Gellert did to gain power, he did on his lonesome. He didn't want anyone to be able to replicate his powers. However, there is something I learned of. He never knew I found out about it."

Tom grew very still. He fixed his cold gaze on Dominik. "Go on."

"He once gave me a bundle of his old papers from his years at Durmstrang, said it would help me with my work, my research. I don't think he'd gone through them well, because there were a few things I think he'd rather I wouldn't have seen."