Two for One

Chapter 61: And It Builds

"I want to learn how to kill people," Gellert says, sitting up in the hospital bed with a bright, razor-sharp grin. "I want to learn how to kill a whole lot of people very fast, and I want to make it hurt."

The Unspeakable says nothing for a long moment. "I can make that happen."

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Tom is holding the ring on his necklace, leaning back against the wall of an empty hospital hallway. "The shadows. How do I control them?"

"That's a dangerous thought," Death murmurs, standing in front of Tom as an exact mirror image.

"Very many tend to be," Tom says. "How do I control them?"

Tom, the dead one, he smiles. "There are a few ways. Make them fear you. Make them respect you. Make them love you."

"I'll go with fear," Tom declares.

Death smirks. "A good choice."

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Albus sits at the hospital bedside, wand hidden on his lap under his hands, a precaution.

Credence turns to the side, dust flaking off and shifting the other way, carving himself down the middle. A rattling, hissing inhale like sand running down stone. "Weak. I'm weak."

"They knew you," Albus corrects, not unkindly. "They knew...what you are. You could not have fought that."

The two fractured halves condense, roiling ash, and Credence reforms, crying tears of dust. "What's the point?" he chokes out, hands clutching at the soft, disintegrating bedspread.

"What do you mean?"

Credence looks to Albus and something too old looks through the eyes of the boy's stolen form. It speaks in overlapping, guttural whispers. "What is the point of being an abomination if it doesn't scare people like that away from me and mine?"

Albus tightens his grip on the hidden wand. "I want you to think about this carefully, Credence. Because I can help, but I need to know you understand what you're getting yourself into."

Credence splits apart, scatters, reforms sitting up with his short legs dangling over the edge of the bed. His eyes are determined.

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Harry stands in an empty stairwell, back against the cold concrete. His eyes are staring into the distance, through something, out of the eyes of someone else.

"I hope you know what you've done," Harry says, Ezio says.

A woman stands at the side of a metal gurney in a muggle morgue, peers down at the corpse of a squib, someone who was only meant to watch and report back. The body was left in an alley, thrown back to the muggle world like trash, as all squibs are believed to be.

"What is your name?" Ezio's corpse asks, words twisting with a strange accent. "I will make sure what's left of you is buried properly, after they're done."

"My name is Berdine, foul thing," she says quietly. "Are you a servant of Voldemort? Or of Grindelwald? I suppose they share now."

Ezio's hazy eyes roll around to stare sightlessly at her. "I'm Harry."

Berdine's expression contorts in shock for a brief moment before she controls herself. She doesn't relax but she does drop the open distain. "Harry, then. We...officially meet. I was not told you had this sort of power."

"I wasn't told either," Ezio murmurs. "They are barely twelve years old, and yet you think them the monster."

Berdine laughs and it's torn out of her, ragged. "Do you think I'm doing this for fun? Out of spite? You should know what they're capable of."

"As should you." Ezio's head turns slowly in jerks from the rigor mortis. "You're the time traveller, aren't you?"

Berdine purses her lips. "Tell them, I'll be waiting."