The Last Chance Of Tom Riddle

A ferocious northern wind howled outside the thick walls of Azkaban, crashing mountains of icy water against them. A chill seeped through the narrow loophole. It was difficult to determine the time of day by the leaden gloom outside. It seemed to be around three o’clock. Perhaps later. Aola reached for a cardboard box with playful flowers on the lid and pulled out another paper tissue. She blew her nose. She sighed. By the second week of imprisonment, the milady had grown somewhat dejected. Due to the constant draft, she had caught a cold — vulgarly sniffing and drinking a foul-tasting potion from the prison infirmary. And this was she, who couldn’t remember the last time she was ill and could walk barefoot almost until the first snow! They say the truth is that a draft, not the cold, is the friend of all chills. Mr. Potter and Mrs. Weasley had visited her several times, but Lady Merovingian remained adamant. She did not intend to speak about the Dark Lord again under any pretext. Perhaps he was already far from Britain… on the other side of the globe. Perhaps he had enough sense to break with the past and start life anew? Even without her… just anew. From a clean slate, even if not with a clean conscience. She would never take that chance away from Tom. She believed in him… despite everything. Alas, she could barely feel him… but he seemed to be alright. Besides, what could he do now, alone? His supporters were dead or had perished in prison. And those still alive were good for nothing — Azkaban ate away at health even without Dementors, including mental health. The night-screamer put on his performances without rest… Fenrir, to be fair, had tried to talk to her across the corridor several times, in both English and the wolf-tongue, but she ignored the werewolf — he was repulsive to her. Maitre Fabre swore he was making every effort to release his client, but bureaucratic red tape pushed her probable deportation to an indefinite date. The Duchess was beginning to lose her patience. Apparently, her entire supply had been spent on life in the Peri community. Lord, what a bore that was! They spend all day wandering from tent to tent, drinking tea, gorging on sweets, flying to a lake or stream to bathe, weaving flower wreaths, and, yes — Tom was right — strumming on the damn lute! And a whole bunch of other instruments. And dancing, of course, can’t have it without that… The unfortunate mortals whom these cunning predators lure as guests to continue their lineage happen there once in a hundred years, and they are usually so drugged by beauty, incense, and idle life that there is nothing to talk about with them. No time, either. A lucky Peri guards her chosen one like the apple of her eye, practically never letting him out of the tent. Good heavens, as if the daughters of Merovech needed those illiterate Syrian or Iranian shepherds! Aola crumpled the tissue as best she could with her tightly shackled hands and took the tiny steps of a geisha toward the fixture that served as both a trash can and a toilet in this “luxurious” establishment. Hurried footsteps in the corridor made her freeze halfway. The guards usually walked sedately — where did they have to rush? Her first thought was Tom… He had done something after all. Her heart jumped to her throat. What if she was wrong about him, and… A cold sweat broke out over the girl. Even alone, he could cause such damage… Her soul was constantly torn between the egoism of love and a sense of responsibility toward the people whom a vengeful Mr. Riddle could, to put it mildly, harm. The footsteps stopped at her cell. Aola turned to the door, expecting to see an angry Harry on the threshold. Or, even worse — a crushed Harry… Her heart danced behind her ribs like crazy. The door creaked. Aola hastily swallowed the lump in her throat. And, to her surprise, she saw a female guard from the new shift. “To what do I owe your unscheduled visit?” the Duchess inquired coldly. The woman closed the door tightly behind her, placed a protective spell so no one could overhear their conversation, and smiled. “Hello, Aola…” the guard’s face shifted, changing its features. The girl had expected to see Tom as her savior, or a fugitive Abu, or her own brother — anyone, but not this person. “Teddy?!” she whispered, stunned. “What are you doing here?!” The ginger rushed to her, grabbing her shackled hands. “I came to get you out of here. You are so pale… you have lost weight… and your fingers are ice cold,” he gazed at her with adoration and sympathy. “You don’t belong here!” “You’ve lost your mind! You have no idea where I belong!” the milady protested. “Leave immediately before you are caught and shoved into the next cell!” “I am not leaving,” the lad cut her off stubbornly. “Teddy, listen… I really did do something forbidden by law. I am not here for no reason. A lawyer is handling my case. Believe me, this is not your problem at all. Please, go,” Aola tried to explain, changing her tone. “I know everything, my godfather told me… About who you really are. And about what you did. Harry thinks you have resurrected… You-Know-Who. But that is nonsense, right? You couldn’t do anything bad… I know you, you are good… the best…” If she could, she would have put her head in her hands. He knows her… Great Merovech! “You are forgetting yourself, young man,” the Duchess decided to change tactics and give the unwelcome savior the “cold shoulder.” “I did not ask for your help and am in no way obliged to account for my actions to you.” But Teddy, fueled by a cocktail of hormones, had long since made up his mind. Aola was an innocent angel, and that was that. He would help her escape from prison, and no one would stop him. Not even her. Ignoring her challenge, the lad pointed his wand at the chains. “Do that — and I will scream,” the Duchess hissed fiercely. And sniffled with her stuffed nose. Cursed innate charm! She didn’t want this foolish boy to fall in love with her, not at all! She was just lonely, wanted to chat with someone about trifles to distract herself from anxious thoughts about Tom, and that was it! “But why?” he asked, hurt. His brown eyes were rapidly changing color; resentment and bewilderment grew in them. “Because you will ruin your life! Immediately return to the guard’s appearance and leave!” “Aola…” the stubbornness mixed with entreaty in his gaze left her no choice. “Fine, free my hands. Only my hands. And leave. I will do the rest myself, later. I don’t want to set you up, Teddy, why can’t you understand that… You are very dear to me, very!” The Duchess looked imploringly at the disobedient boy, calling upon that cursed charm for help. Come on, Teddy! “Alright…” he gave in, hearing what he wanted to hear. The shackles clinked, freeing her hands. The heavy bracelets had rubbed her skin raw. Aola began rubbing her wrists, wrinkling her nose in pain. “Thank you… Now, go! Please.” “Contact me when you are free,” he demanded. “Here, take this image… It is safe there, you can hide if there is nowhere else to go. I will be waiting…” She nodded — anything just to make him leave faster. The ginger impulsively hugged her shoulders and kissed her hungrily. The speed with which modern boys close the distance to the desired object was something Tom never dreamed of in his time! Unaccustomed to such things, Aola didn’t even have time to object. And his face, shining with happiness like a young wizard’s on his first broom flight, had already transformed. Within seconds, the female guard stood before the girl again. Blowing the Duchess a kiss from the doorway, she disappeared behind the massive door. Only when the footsteps faded did Aola finally let out her breath. Oh, you… some savior! If they catch you, you will end up in Azkaban yourself, and your hero-godfather won’t help! The Duchess tried not to think about how she herself had carried out a rescue operation a hundred times more complex. She was allowed to; she was a big girl, she had lived. And Teddy had only just left childhood. She mechanically licked her lips, as if tasting his kiss. Although Aola hadn’t expected it and hadn’t wanted it… besides Tom, in the last seventy-odd years, no one else had kissed her like that… The sensation was pleasant and, truth be told, exciting. Perhaps it was the contrast with Tommy’s last extremely rough kiss when he nearly raped her… Great Merovech, what a mess she had brewed, and how was she to untangle it all now? Testing a simple spell, the milady made sure everything was in order; her hands and skill had not failed her. She freed her legs. With delight, she paced the cell with long strides. Teddy had kindly shared with her not only the image of the refuge but also a map of the prison, and she knew where to go. But first, she had to get the lamp with Abu… She would not leave her faithful servant… or rather, friend, here. After waiting half an hour, she cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and quietly slipped into the corridor. Trying to step as silently as possible, she passed the cell with the werewolf. It stank like a cage with a real beast. Still, he lunged at the barred window, agitated, sniffing the air. If he noticed her, he would demand to be taken along, and Aola didn’t need such baggage at all. Right down the corridor, then to the right — a grate, behind it a staircase down. Several floors below was the guardroom; the lamp with the jinni was likely kept there to stay in sight. She had to fumble with the lock reinforced with a sealing spell. The hinges, rusty from constant dampness, shrieked as they opened the path to freedom for the Duchess. She winced, holding the door. She quietly closed it behind her and began to descend in the thick gloom, not daring to light a flame. Her eyes soon grew accustomed to the darkness, and the descent became easier. She had covered three floors when hurried footsteps sounded ahead — several people were practically running toward her. Had Teddy been caught in his deception?! She barely managed to press against the wall when another door was thrown open with force and, nearly brushing against her, Harry, Hermione, and several people Aola didn’t know ran up the stairs with their lit wands held high. Teddy Lupin was not among them. What could have happened? Trembling with bad premonitions, Miss Merovingian slipped through the door before it could slam shut. Now, straight, left, and left again… Save Abu, get out of Azkaban — that was her task, otherwise the ginger would have risked himself in vain. She had to hurry. Harry had come for her — she knew it.