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HP: The Otherworlder

An endless void. A sea of black in which the passing of time holds no meaning. Then suddenly… light. But wait, why can’t he remember his name? Why are foreign memories of a boy named Tom Riddle Jr flooding his mind? Most importantly, why does the man with red eyes staring back at him feel so dangerous? 
Enter SI OC, Edmund Cole, shoved into the body of a young Tom Riddle in the summer of 1993… DISCLAIMER: I do not own the art or the literary works upon which this fanfiction is based. All rights belong to Zara H (@za_ra_h_ on Twitter) & J.K. Rowling, respectively.

BS6SC · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
94 Chs

CH48 - Last Minute Preparations

Smoke hit Edmund's face as he watched the Hogwarts Express depart once more, London-bound. Through the layer of fumes, he could make out the faint silhouettes of three people waving at him, their voices echoing throughout the otherwise empty platform.

"Bye Edmund!" Ben shouted, his quiet voice barely reaching Edmund's ears.

"Catch you on the flip side!" Jeremy hollered obnoxiously.

"See ya, dork!" Cecilia chortled, causing the others with her to start laughing as well.

Edmund smiled and waved in return, waiting till the train was out of view till he began making his way back to the castle.

The second term had passed at breakneck speed for Edmund. It seemed like only yesterday that he had come to pick up his friends after Christmas, and here he was less than three months later to see them off again.

Once more, he would be alone within Hogwarts, free to roam its walls. However, Edmund doubted that the period would bring with it the same sense of loneliness he had experienced over the weeks in winter. The Easter break was shorter than the previous one and tended to be used by many older students to prepare for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in peace. Rather than less than ten students being present in the castle, the number was closer to one hundred. Even without the increased presence, Edmund knew he would have been far too busy to think about his friends this time around, and he was eager for the reasons why.

That was not to mention that with the days as long as they were now, it was hard to feel any real sadness at all. The sun was shining overhead, illuminating the towers brightly. Birds were chirping merrily, performing their mating calls with glee, taking advantage of the clear skies. The first of the flowers had begun to bloom, sending a shower of pollen drifting through the atmosphere, just as heavy and thick as the snow that had preceded it.

Edmund leaned out of the side as the carriage trundled along the path, letting the sunlight hit his face. He inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh smells of spring and clearing his nostrils of the reek from the train.

Decelerating to a stop, Edmund jumped out of the coach, sending a wave of gravel airborne from his landing. Following the reins attached to the carriage, Edmund felt along until he could sense the presence of taut sinewy skin. His fingers slowly reached the front of the thestral, scratching the beast comfortingly throughout the way.

With his other hand, he reached into the pouch tucked away into the pocket of his robes, retrieving the bacon strips he had saved within.

The thestral's nose began to flare immediately as it moved to the origin of the scent singlemindedly.

Edmund chuckled, feeding the creature its deserved due. "It's all for you. Slow down! I haven't got any more, so you better savour it."

Despite his light scolding, the thestral wolfed down the snack in just a few seconds, sniffing around Edmund to see if he could find anything else. With a soft snort, its bony face pressed up against his palm affectionately. The thestral's rough tongue instantly came out of its mouth, licking up the last residue of the meat on Edmund's hands and slobbering all over them uncaringly.

Holding up his spit-soaked digits, Edmund grimaced with revulsion.

"Disgusting," he muttered.

The thestral whinnied in response, rubbing its side with Edmund's in complaint.

Edmund patted it on the head consolingly as he chuckled. "Ah, don't worry, buddy. I still love you."

*-*-*-*

- (Scene Break) -

*-*-*-*

Edmund quietly opened the door to the kitchens, peering through the crack to see if anyone else was within. Inside, he found himself the observer of a strange scene.

The house-elves all sat in a circle in varying forms of disarray, hanging onto the words of a wizened member of their race standing in the very center.

The elf—a female, Edmund recognized with a closer look—bore innumerable wrinkles upon her tiny forehead, and a small cane in her grasp seemed to be the only thing keeping her upright. Despite her fragile stature, her demeanour was entirely business as she gazed upon her fellow brethren.

"What about the dorms?" she asked the room with a frown.

"We goes all over the castle, and we already cleans them, miss head elf miss," a younger house-elf squeaked out sadly.

"The classroo—" the now identified head elf continued before being cut off.

"We cleans them too, miss! We cleans the classrooms once, wipes down the Great Hall, and even the common rooms as well! Deputy headmistress kitty forbids us to dust the castle more than twice a day, and bans us from cleaning abandoned classrooms as well," another house-elf wailed, earning herself a slap on the back of the head for interrupting.

No one contradicted her, though, the other elves only muttering their agreement.

"Too much work bad for house-elves?" one of them imitated McGonagall sullenly. *Pah!*

"Good elves don't complain about overwork," another elder house-elf agreed. "Back in my day..."

The head elf banged her cane on the floor once, causing the room to fall silent once more.

...Exposing the sound of Edmund rummaging through the bread basket as quietly as he could. Perhaps he should have cast a silencing charm in the area, but the magic tended to negatively interfere with the Stasis charms placed on the food. Alas, he had no time for regret.

Edmund found himself face to face with hundreds of elves, looking at him with aghast expressions. Silence reigned for several seconds before the head-elf spoke up, deceptively quiet.

"What is you doing, young master?" she asked, glancing at the large stash of food Edmund had piled up with her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I, uh, I just needed to grab a quick bite to eat?" Edmund answered. "I didn't want to disturb you all. Carry on, carry on, don't mind me."

His words had practically no effect.

"You plans to eat all this by yourself?" the head elf questioned skeptically. "Not many mouths to feed right now, and breakfast was only an hour ago."

Edmund scratched his head, clenching his teeth. "I'm a growing boy?" he tried.

It was a pathetic excuse, even to his own ears.

In truth, one of the rituals that Edmund was about to undertake would disrupt the cycle of his internal hormones, temporarily making him highly ravenous. It was an odd side effect, but easily managed, all things considered.

If only he had managed to get the food without a hassle...

The house-elves only looked at him more distrustfully, an expression that appeared rather cute on their lopsided faces.

Edmund waved his hands in the air to dispel their doubts futilely. "Look, you don't even need to bother! I'll just put on this apron here, cook myself a quick meal, and be on my way!"

Their wariness dissipated in a snap, replaced with a look of intense desire. The group glanced at one another for a moment before pandemonium broke out.

Tens of house-elves charged at him suddenly, and only Edmund's instincts allowed him to jump over the first batch of them despite his shock.

"Flopsy cooks the eggs! She beats them evenly and makes sure no eggshells fall in!" one of the female house-elves declared with a cry.

"Tipsy—" another elf announced.

"—and Topsy—" an elf next to the other continued.

"—bakes the cake!" Tipsy finished.

Edmund watched, bewildered, as the elves competed for who would complete which task, as he headed back to the counters to return the apron he had taken.

He should have expressed his intentions before he made a move.

A house elf swung up on his shoulders, encircling Edmund's eyes with his hands. Two other elves grabbed onto his feet while another pair held each arm, trying to keep in place.

"Alright, alright!" Edmund shouted quickly. "I get it. I shouldn't interfere! I was just taking off my apron, I promise!"

His eyes were uncovered slowly, greeting him with the view of a house elf hanging upside down, staring at him sternly.

*Hmmph* it sighed, signalling the others to release him.

Edmund gulped, slowly approaching the tabletop with caution.

Seeing the icing for a chocolate cake being prepared, he scooped up a little bit with a slyly transfigured spoon. As he brought the sweet delicacy to his lips, a roller pin almost hit him on the hand. Edmund was only being able to avoid being struck because of his danger sense warning him at the last second. Even then, the spoon flew out of his hands, clattering to the floor. The mess was picked up in less than a split second, and the area was mopped, dried, and dusted by three separate elves shortly thereafter.

Whirling around, Edmund stared into the unrepentant face of the head elf who was looking at him admonishingly.

"Milly is not thinking that be meant for young master to eat," she harrumphed, grabbing him by the hand and leading him to a chair in the far corner. "Sit, and wait patiently. It will not take long."

True to their word, Edmund's meal was cooked, packaged, and handed to him in less than five minutes, after which he was chased out of the room.

They may have been happy enough to serve him, but house-elves did not tolerate mischief-makers.

Bending his head down into the basket given to him, Edmund let out a smile of contentment. 'Worth it.'

That was the last of his preparations, done. All he had to do now was check in with Marvolo one final time before he removed the communicative device from his body.

He was almost ready.

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