7|| Pawn to E3
Abraxas Malfoy has a fitting grip for that of his character and heritage. Though firm with his surety and confidence, it is nothing like the grip Hermione would expect from Draco Malfoy. It is more kindly than that, demanding her attention as she is pulled into the Hall and paying little mind to those around her. Some people stare at their united forms, though not near a majority. Waving at certain groups with a small smile, Abraxas makes his way to the Slytherin table where few sit.
From her peripheral vision, Hermione notices the congregated Knights and their leader near the center of the table, and more specifically, their gaze on Malfoy and herself. Hermione takes special care not to catch the eyes of Riddle, sitting with grace and looking to Abraxas solely.
"I do hope I am not keeping you away from your friends," Hermione remarks to him, appreciating his friendliness though not wishing for the anger of others at Malfoy's attention to her.
"Do not even think of it, Hermione," Abraxas waves off with a smile. "I can see them all in the coming days, and besides, you are far better company than most."
Smiling at the boy with surety, Hermione turns to the meal on the table, piling a good portion of food onto her plate with well-tuned and unforgotten manners. And though she is careful, Hermione cannot help spilling some mash-and-peas across the table as Lestrange plops down next to Abraxas, surprising her. Huffing at the food and him, Hermione Granger meets the eyes of the fellow Knight who grins wickedly at her and Lestrange. And then, peeking her eyes down the table, Hermione sees the clenched jaw and sparking red eyes of Tom Riddle, his eyes on Lestrange alone. So this was not planned, at least by Voldemort.
"Hello, Robastian," Abraxas says, refusing to meet the other boy's eyes as he speaks with composure and faked concern. "Did winter holiday treat you well?"
"Positively wonderful, Malfoy. And how was yours? Your family's healthy, I hope," Lestrange replies, his eyes stuck to Hermione whose eyes are stuck to Abraxas. And the white-haired heir simply looks around the hall, pretending to be oblivious to the boy's intentions.
"They are all as happy as goblins," Abraxas says, turning to Lestrange with a smile that screams of sarcasm. So, Malfoy does not get along with his bigoted family... "As for me, well, it was nice to have your friends off my back for a few weeks."
"Yes, they do not seem to know when to shut up, now do they?" Lestrange remarks, and hypocritically at that.
"Do you?" Abraxas responds without fail, grinning at Hermione who has to chuckle, hiding it behind her napkin. Lestrange, contemptuous of this newfound relationship, glares at Hermione solely. It would seem that women are always at fault here in the 1940s.
"You know, Abraxas, you can be quite rude at times," Lestrange snarls with his attention now on the grinning boy. "Why ever do people enjoy your company?"
"I am real...and honest. Unlike those you take company in," Abraxas says easily, grin gone but replaced with a calm facade. Lestrange stands strictly from the bench, Abraxas turning to grin again. "Yes, run off now."
Robastian Lestrange storms away and back to his seat across from Tom. Abraxas is more obvious than Hermione as he looks to that group of followers and their leader, Tom's face practically murderous as Lestrange sits down. Abraxas cannot help grinning.
"Trouble in paradise, I see," Abraxas observes, his grin turning to a mischievous smirk. "Good."
"For a boy who's warning me of Tom Riddle, you sure seem to enjoy agitating him," Hermione says, taking a bite of the mash as his eyes turn back to her with a note of seriousness, unfitting for the striking and charismatic Slytherin.
"He won't touch me as long as he needs me..." Abraxas says slowly, much like a serpent, though tamer than Tom, "...and he will continue needing me. Abraxas Scorpius Malfoy does not bow down to anyone."
Hermione grins at the boy in front of her, though his words do not bode well for her task as a Knight. However, it is comforting to see another person her age suspecting Tom Riddle of less-than-virtuous deeds. And moreover, it is nice not having to overly fake her personality, finding comfort in their calm conversation even when parting later that night.
And though she tries to avoid his gaze and presence, Hermione does not miss Tom Riddle pulling Lestrange from the Slytherin Common Room as she moves to her dorm. And it does not take her smarts to know that Lestrange will be in great pain tonight and sore the next morning.
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Perhaps ignorantly, Hermione does not spend any average amount of time getting ready the following day. Like before, in her proper time, Hermione chooses to simply pull her hair back in a braid and throw on her robes over the Time-Turner. And, consequently from her rush, she is the first to arrive in the Great Hall, books in tow and weighing down her bag.
It is more peaceful to be alone here than her room, as this feels like serenity while her room bodes of loneliness. She eats quietly, head tucked down as she reads over the Transfiguration book again, lost to the silence like literature has always managed. And though her senses are tuned to presences nearby, Hermione is hardly used to snakes in her struggles. Maybe that is why she does not notice a certain Slytherin's presence until he sits down, refusing to jump in surprise even as her heart hammers in her chest.
Hermione expects Abraxas Malfoy when she looks up, but she flinches upon seeing Tom Riddle instead. His long and graceful fingers (one of the few things unchanged between now and the 1990s) butter his toast with utter grace and ease. Hermione blanches, mouth dropping at the sight of him, not seeing why his company is quite necessary now.
"Close your mouth before I curse it shut for you," Tom says with a warm tone, though it causes chills to run down her spine in his obvious facade. Hermione's eyes stare at him for mere seconds, mouth shutting as she then surveys the room. The only other students present are a group of ignorant Hufflepuffs who'd surely not help her if Tom went on the attack.
"I apologize. It's just...I wasn't expecting you," Hermione whispers to Tom looking to him with her honey-dipped eyes that most men would fall for in mere seconds. However, the darkness of the boy repels all sense of virtue and sweetness.
"You were expecting Abraxas?" Tom asks, staring at her with a strong gaze and faked interest. He takes a bite out of his toast, his white teeth glistening and reminding Hermione of a snake's bite as she just stares at him. How is it possible to look so predatory?
"Isn't that what I am meant to be doing?" she manages, looking back to his eyes as he grins at her, pleased to see unnerved feelings in her magic.
"Of course it is," he responds, continuing to eat as they lapse into silence, Hermione avoiding his gaze as he stares at her. As the minutes pass in discomfort, students and professors move into the Hall, picking their own food and looking to the Head Boy and new girl with curiosity or jealousy. Neither Hermione nor Tom respond to their gazes.
"Tom, m'boy!" Slughorn shouts as he moves down the Hall and towards the two students, his belly heavy though not to the extent of the future. And while Tom places his charming facade on his face, Hermione mentally prepares herself for the professor's ignorance and idiocracy.
"Good morning, Professor Slughorn," Tom greets with a sweet and cunning grin unlike that of his true malicious smirk. "How was your holiday?"
"Brilliant! And what did I tell you about sending me treats? You know I don't need them!" Slughorn laughs, prompting Tom to do the same with faked intention. Hermione wishes to gag at the sight of the delusions that are plenty obvious, though her expression of disgust turns to a beautiful smile as Slughorn turns to her. "Oh, and you must be Miss Granger! How wonderful that Tom is helping you around."
"Oh yes, Tom has been of the utmost help. I am so grateful," Hermione says with a smile that is nearly as charming as Tom Riddle's. It's startling to the boy to see such a thing. He wants to think it is the way her brown and innocent gleam in the Hall's lighting, rather than her apparent beauty, but he is not so sure.
"Good, good. Now, I have 'yer schedule here, Hermione," Slughorn prompts, handing her a piece of rolled parchment with a smile. "As it appears, I'll be having you in class with Tom later today."
"Splendid!" she chants, smiling brightly at the man in a sudden bout of competition to charm the instructor. "Thank you, Professor!"
"Anytime, Miss Granger. I will see you then," Slughorn says, waving at Tom as he leaves, the boy smiling and waving back. But as Slughorn turns his back to the two, Tom's grin falls into coldness again, looking to Hermione and her competitive charm. Raising an eyebrow at her, Hermione avoids his gaze with the full realization of his discontent.
"How charming," he mutters under his breath, though Hermione barely catches it as she sees Abraxas enter the hall. And though he first beams and heads towards the new girl, he stills at the sight of Tom Riddle across from her. The Malfoy heir is quick to partake in a detour, sitting next to some other Slytherins halfway down the table.
"He will not sit with you," Hermione says, her voice tense at Tom's intervening in her genuine friendship and his blocking of her whole task as a Knight.
"I know."
"Then, I must ask, why are you sitting with me? Am I not meant to be 'influencing' him?" Hermione gripes, threatening his patience and causing his jaw to clench. His eyes meet hers, not completely angry given the lack of red in his eyes, though he seems tempted to curse her then and there.
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," he quotes, straight-faced as if neither believing nor disbelieving his own words.
"I suppose you read that somewhere," Hermione remarks, taking a bite out of her croissant and the last remaining food on her small plate.
"And by that, you mean...?" Tom asks, raising his eyebrow at her implications, no matter how abstract they are.
"Well, you have shown no attention to women, nor men, in my time here. Therefore, I can say you've never grown 'fond' of someone, nonetheless through 'absence,'" Hermione observes, expecting a fierce response from him. However, Tom turns to a grin, taking a final bite of his toast before standing to his feet.
"You're getting better," he almost praises, though it is less than genuine as Tom Riddle moves through the Hall and to the edge of the room where another girl waits. Hermione just barely eyes the Head Girl badge on the her Ravenclaw robes, hidden under layers of light blonde hair, much like Luna's. Tom speaks to her in a serious tone, exemplified in his posture. The girl, in response, just nods, her mind obviously elsewhere. Maybe this is the ancestor of the Lovegoods...
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After a long and tedious lecture from Merrythought in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Hermione is feeling the buzz of her bookworm. As studious as ever and not wishing to betray this part of her character, Hermione was quick to respond to every question the teacher posed, if not answered by Tom Riddle himself. And speaking of Voldemort, he had been shocked by her performance in that class. Sure, from the amount of time she spent in the library (he had Nott following her), Tom expected her to be smarter than most. But at the same time, he did not expect her extensive knowledge and wish to answer all the questions, matching himself in skill. And Tom was not the only one to be floored, as the rumor of her smarts was now circulating around the castle with heightened expectations of her abilities.
Hermione knows little to none about this, parting with Abraxas after Defense as she moved to Arithmancy and he to Care of Magical Creatures. Shyly, Hermione takes a seat in the empty classroom, preparing parchment, papers, pens, and books as she avoids the many gazes upon her. And though she ought to expect it, Hermione is surprised when a girl moves to sit next to her...the Head Girl to be exact.
"Hello, you must be Hermione Granger. I am Clarence Nevarse, Head Girl," the girl says cheerily and with a massive smile, offering a handshake which Hermione accepts with her own grin.
"I am. It's a pleasure to meet you," Hermione says, looking at the near-white hair of the girl and her pearly skin. With her peachy lips and blue-eyes, it gives Clarence a Scandanavian look that Hermione has always admired in Luna. It is different, and Hermione likes differences.
"And you too!" the girl reciprocates, extremely smiley and friendly, though silent as the professor enters the room. The class is little different from the previous one, though Hermione finds herself smiling subconsciously as Clary kicks her feet as they hang off a stool, grinning widely. Hermione answers all the questions that the teacher poses, reassuring rumors of their actual truth. And though Clary never answers anything, Hermione can tell that the girl is brilliant from her work.
At the end of the period, the two move from the class like a united front of smarts. With their differing characteristics, both internal and external, Hermione finds their pairing strange, yet enjoys the girl's company.
"If you need anything, please let me know. I am usually in the library when I am not on patrol or in class," Clarence offers as she turns to Hermione with a nice and warm smile.
"Then I expect we'll be seeing a lot of each other," Hermione says, grinning at the girl of similar traits, though different expressions. "The library here is amazing."
Squealing slightly at Hermione, Clarence grins in obvious joy at their similarity. But as her eyes meet a clock, the sound dissolves to speech: "Oh! I must be off. Next class is outside!" Before Hermione knows it, Clarence is charging down the hallway with a backwards wave. "Farewell Hermione!"
Laughing at the girl and her similarity to Luna (though more energized), Hermione shakes her head. Her task may be impossible, but Hermione feels better about her prospects with new friends found.
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