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"Enter!"
Blake slowly inched the door open.
"Good afternoon, Professor."
"Mr Renshaw," McGonagall responded tiredly, peering at him over her glasses. "Is there something you need?"
"If you're not too busy, yes, actually," Blake admitted, taking out his wand.
"And this has something to do with the Dementor attack, I presume?" the old witch asked with a small smile on her lips.
Blake grinned in response.
"You know me well, Professor. Yes - I knew the incantation behind the Patronus charm, and the intent behind it. But when I try to use the charm, I can never produce a corporeal Patronus. I was wondering if you could help?"
McGonagall sighed.
"Renshaw, a corporeal Patronus is a difficult feat that even the most experienced wizards struggle-"
"Professor, respectfully, I don't think that's the issue," Blake said pointedly.
McGonagall smiled slightly again.
"I suppose you're right."
The witch stood and approached him.
"Show me what you normally do then, Blake."
The 14 year old stood up straighter, and moved his wand purposefully.
"Expecto Patronum!"
The now familiar, silvery light flashed from the tip of his wand, blinding both student and teacher, but no form took hold.
"Hmm," McGonagall wondered, a frown on her face. "Your incantation and wand movement are all correct. And peculiarly, the strength of the light is clearly there, yet no form is taken."
"That's what I was thinking too," Blake confirmed.
"Then I suppose that leaves only one thing, then. What do you think of when you attempt the spell, Renshaw?" she asked, her voice commanding and stern again like she always was when she taught.
"A happy moment - me, my mother and Connor cutting Connor's birthday cake."
"And is that your happiest memory?"
"Yes," Blake said affirmatively. "It is."
"You're sure?"
Blake nodded, ignoring the weird feeling at the back of his head.
"Hm. In that case, Renshaw, try once more. Remember, it's the memory that's important - you must think of the memory, not just the people or the event - how it made you feel too."
Blake nodded, and drew in a deep breath.
"Expecto Patronum!"
This time, it was different. The bright silvery light burst forward from his wand, but it seemed to shimmer and twist and turn, as if forming something.
"It's working, Renshaw!" McGonagall said excitedly. "Keep going!"
Blake gritted his teeth. Something's wrong, he thought. There was an odd sensation somewhere in his head - not pain, not discomfort, but as if something was there when it shouldn't be, sort of like when Blake had undergone surgery to remove his appendix last summer - he'd somehow woken up mid-surgery, and felt the surgical instruments in his abdomen. It didn't hurt at all, but he felt its presence.
He lowered his wand, feeling defeated.
McGonagall looked at him, as though thinking.
"Are you sure that's your happiest memory, Blake?" she asked quietly.
He nodded wordlessly.
"Well, I may be overstepping my bounds as your teacher, and if so I apologise, but I daresay - what about your father?"
Blake's head jerked up and at McGonagall, surprised.
"What about him, Professor?"
"Well, I understand that you loved him very much, Blake. Is your happiest memory not with him too?"
Blake's mind spun.
"It is."
McGonagall frowned. "But you said it was your little brother's birthday, with you, Connor and your mother?"
Blake's mind spun further.
"It is."
McGonagall looked at him oddly and sighed.
"Perhaps you ought to reorganise your mind, Renshaw. I'm sure you realise that what you just said doesn't make sense."
The boy looked at her, dazed, before nodding.
"Thanks, Professor."
/
Blake set off to work. I can worry about my memories later. Right now, I need to look into Voldemort, especially with Sirius Black on the loose.
"Good afternoon, Madam Pince," Blake said politely, smiling.
"Mr Renshaw," the woman responded, for once not screaming, much to the nearby students' surprise. "What can I help you with?"
"I'm doing a History of Magic essay, and I was wondering if you had any books on Salazar Slytherin's family tree - his descendants?"
Pince seemed in deep thought.
"Yes, I do. Just a moment."
The woman disappeared off into her office, from which lloud clattering and cursing could be heard, until she finally reappeared, a dusty but large book in her hand.
"This book contains all the information about the descendants of the Founders of Hogwarts and other related individuals. You'll probably find what you're looking for here."
Blake grinned widely.
"Thanks, Madam Pince!"
All the way to his next lesson, Blake had to stop himself from tearing open the book to see Slytherin's family tree.
However, what he heard in the next lesson - Potions - distracted him.
"Sirius Black's been sighted."
Immediately, Blake stiffened, as he listened in on the conversation between Harry, Ron and another Gryffindor boy - Seamus Finnigan, the ginger one that liked to blow stuff up.
"Where?"
"Not too far from here," Finnigan responded.
As Malfoy somehow got himself involved in the conversation and they argued, Blake considered what that meant.
There's no doubt about it.
Sirius Black's trying to kill Harry Potter.
/
Back in his room, Blake was mulling over the Slytherin family tree book. I can't see any mention of any Riddles, he thought, annoyed. But then again, there's only one possibility of what family he could be from - all the other families have died out by now.
The Gaunts.
They're inbred like no other family in this book, but they've got Slytherin's blood.
There's only 3 possible parents - Marvolo, Merope or Morfin Gaunt.
According to these newspapers from ages ago, Marvolo Gaunt was imprisoned at some point during the year Voldemort was born - and the fact that he already had two adult children at the time makes it doubly unlikely it was him.
That means it's one of his two children - Morfin or Merope.
But how am I going to figure out what?
Suddenly, however, Blake had an idea.
"Where are you going?" Zabini asked, as Blake hurriedly put on his shoes.
"Library. There's something I wanna see."
"What is it?"
"I'll be back soon!" Blake said as he left, ignoring Zabini's question, casting a Disillusionment and Muffliato charm as he went.
I've wanted to try this out for a while now, he thought as he entered the library.
"Accio Morfin Gaunt!"
For a second nothing happened - but then, Blake heard a loud whoosh, and the sound of paper and books moving around. From the boxes of papers and articles, covered in dust, a single newspaper landed in his hand.
Blake scanned the front pages, and his eyes widened.
Morfin Gaunt… imprisoned for attacking Muggle Tom Riddle … imprisoned again for murdering Tom Riddle and his parents!
That means it has to be Merope, doesn't it? That's why Morfin attacked Tom Riddle Sr - blood supremacist that hated the fact that his sister had a child with a Muggle.
"Accio Tom Riddle!"
The only information that came to Blake was about Voldemort in Hogwarts, nothing useful. Disappointed, he tried again.
"Accio Merope Gaunt!"
No information came. Pushing past his annoyance, Blake thought deeply.
So - Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Sr have a child. But if her family hated the fact that she married a Muggle, there's no way they would've let Voldemort access their things. And if you look at the timeline, Morfin killed Riddle when Voldemort was 16-ish. The hatred was still there. That means Voldemort didn't have access to the Gaunt family's resources at all - they'd have hated him too, ironically.
But that means, Blake realised darkly, that Voldemort learnt how to split and preserve his soul at Hogwarts.
"Accio soul-splitting spell!"
Nothing.
Blake sighed, and tried one last time.
"Accio Horcrux!"
Nothing happened.
There was only one person that would've known about the soul-splitting spell, regardless of whether it was a Horcrux or not, and removed such information..
Dumbledore.
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