Flight of the Stars

Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I don't own Hermione, Tom, Abraxas, or any of these other lovely characters. If I did, I'd probably feel like I was under the influence of Felix Felicis all day, every day. Oh yeah, I don't own that either.

o-0-o

Hermione hated him. She really did. She had no doubt he was using her for some nefarious purpose, and would discard her when he became emperor of the world or whatever his grand ambitions were.

She hated how he'd make her feel like she was the most important person in the room, actually make her feel appreciated, when all she wanted to do was punch him in his stupid, perfect teeth. And Merlin, she hated how annoyingly handsome he was. It made despising him so much harder.

She was glad they'd made the Unbreakable Vow, at least. That way he wouldn't be able to betray her. She didn't know why the idea of his betrayal bothered her so much. It certainly wouldn't be a terribly new idea. She remembered how Tom – no, not Tom, Voldemort; they were somehow the same person and yet not and it confused her to some degree – she remembered how Voldemort had killed Snape, his most useful Death Eater, when he'd thought him to be the true master of the Elder Wand. No, betrayal was most definitely not a new concept to him.

Hermione shook her head and hefted her book bag more securely on her shoulder as she took the stairs down to the drafty dungeons. She'd often wondered in the days since they'd made the Vow whether or not she'd been manipulated. She probably had, she mused; he was a master manipulator. Yes, use the Mudblood to make the people love you and then discard her once they were begging to let you rule them as King.

Honestly. She was probably just being paranoid.

At least she could keep him from becoming Evil Insane Dark Lord either way.

She tugged at her again-curly hair. Lucretia's charm had finally worn off, and it was now back to its normal bushy state. She rather preferred it this way – it felt like being reunited with an old friend.

She came upon the stretch of blank stone wall, muttered the password – Black Lake – and the passage revealed itself. She entered the dark, elegant common room, the walls bathed in an almost ghostly green light from the Black Lake, and slumped unceremoniously onto one of the black couches near the crackling fireplace, dropping her book bag onto the floor.

"Are you all right?"

She turned to see Oraia, a heavy book open on her lap, eyebrows raised slightly. Hermione hadn't even known she was sitting there.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she grimaced. "Just Riddle being stupid."

"I don't think the words 'Tom' and 'stupid' go together," Oraia mused.

Hermione laughed slightly. "All right, then Riddle being Riddle."

"That I can understand," she grinned. Then her eyebrows drew together. "You're calling him by his surname again."

"He deserves it," Hermione huffed.

"What did he do?" Oraia asked sympathetically, moving over to sit by her friend.

"Oh, you know, just the usual," Hermione huffed irritably. "Reading my mind without my permission, talking about his grand ambitions and whatnot." And that I'll rule by his side. What rubbish.

It had been her idea, of course, and Ri – Tom – Riddle had agreed to it, but that didn't mean she believed he'd actually keep his word.

"But that's great!" Oraia exclaimed, an excited gleam in her light eyes. "Does that mean you'll be inducted?"

"Inducted?" Hermione frowned. "What do you – "