16|| Pawn to D6
The Dark Lord and time-travelling heroine move into the Transfiguration classroom with utter ease, though one bares the look of pure loathing and the other with genuine contentment. Tom Riddle hates Albus Dumbledore and all his suspicious ways, focused on him and no one else. Hermione Granger, on the other hand, had found a mentor in the older figure, so wise and strong in the face of such horrid evils. So their expressions serve as juxtaposed ideologies, yet united in the same cause for differing reasons.
Few other students sit in the classroom, all of their heads raising to look at the powerful and smart duo, walking together for the first time since her admission to the school. Hermione, as per usual, takes her seat at the front of the class, unsurprised (at this point) when Tom sits beside her and prompting the others to watch the two carefully. And yet, Hermione pays no mind to them, wondering how long Tom will keep this companionship up.
The next thing is what shocks Hermione to the core. Placing books aside in pursuit of some parchment, Hermione's eyes lock upon the cursed and horror-invoking Diary. Sitting beneath a Divination journal and above a Potion's textbook, Tom Riddle's Diary seems an unfitting piece of dark magic that has no place in such academia. Her face reflects shock and horror at the sight, missed by the Dark Lord, luckily enough, as he draws paper from his bag. And though he fails to see her expression, Dumbledore catches it easily, knowing what is scaring her so greatly, yet avidly wondering why.
And though he is suspicious of her intentions, Dumbledore perceives an ally in Hermione Granger from the sheer look of fear on her face. Tom's face rises from his task, tempting the Dark Lord to notice the girl and prompting Dumbledore to start the class, a distraction for both students.
Tom Riddle might have lost his need for suspecting Hermione of ulterior intentions, but Dumbledore is onto her story, unyielding in his pursuit for the truth.
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Hermione's pleas for peace go unheeded for the remainder of the day, Tom Riddle following her around like some love-struck child with a master facade of coldness. Indeed, it is not until after dinner that she finds the peace she so needs, Tom following her from classes, to breaks, to homework, and to meals. It was only due to a meeting with Dippet that he is no longer by her side, leaving Hermione to the graceful company of Abraxas and Clary, true friends.
The three study quietly for the exam in Defense, eyes strewn across notes and books and hearts calmed by the quiet of the library. And yet, only one of them is truly focused on the task: Clary. Meanwhile, Hermione is haunted by the ghost of the future Tom Riddle and his present interest in her. And Abraxas, wondering what has happened to his good friend to attract such a demon as the Dark Lord to her side.
"Hermione, why is Tom following you around?" Abraxas finally asks, accepting he will not be able to focus until he discovers the true reasons for Tom's actions. Of course, he suspects it is due to the Knight meeting the night prior, but he wants to know exactly why her actions interest him.
"Something about me being the 'only one deserving of his company,'" Hermione responds with the only answer she can provide. Looking up at the Malfoy heir, Hermione catches his disbelieving look with complete ease. She sighs, equally frustrated by the wily Dark Lord and muttering a short, "I know."
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Friday brings about the second duel for the Seventh Year Defense class and a continuing Tom Riddle at Hermione's side. After 'accidentally' meeting him in the Common Room that morning, Tom sat with her at breakfast, pushing her other friends away, and now sits with her in the Defense class. Abraxas, forced to sit behind her given Tom's replacement, sends Hermione an irritated gaze, too weak to express it directly at Tom. Hermione is finding herself in between more passive-aggressive quarrels than ever before.
Tom watches the duels with great interest, ready to see how effective Hermione has been in teaching the imbeciles to fight. And he is not disappointed, with the Knights showing significant improvement in duels with other students and with one another. Applauding Hermione mentally but never meaning to compliment her, Tom grins at the notion that he can now actually do something with these fighters. They can go on field missions.
After Abraxas beats Lestrange (again), the remainder of the class is not surprised to hear the remaining two competitors are Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger. However, it is slightly startling to see the two move from the same table, openly parting to move into their opposite dueling positions and begin the fight.
This one, no less impressive than the last, ends in a similar way with Tom winning and Hermione losing her wand. However, there is a certain change in tone between the two, the boy handing the girl her wand with a look of respect, hands not touching but slightly wishing to. They move to their seats in silence, side-by-side in movement, and prompting suspicions to spur in the crowds. Tom Riddle had always been an enigma to the masses, and many are suspicious of his intentions. But their feelings are no longer limited to the male figure alone, but to the woman herself: an equal power radiating from her and a tendency to stay near the darker Slytherin. Together, they are powerful and feared.
Hermione comes to accept his presence, becoming more comfortable in the dark magic he exerts as they move between classes and meals together. And when Potions finally arrives, none of the students in the classroom are surprised to see the two together, rumors already stirring and all being completely false.
"What is this?" Slughorn's voice resounds around the room as he shuffles towards his favorite students with a happy grin. "My two best students are together at last?"
Hermione stalls at his words, internally panicking at the notion he implies. To be 'together' with Tom Riddle would be the last thing Hermione would wish. But moreover, his words imply that Slughorn has expected their 'coupling' for some time, a nauseating thought given Tom's evil.
"Not in that way, Professor." Tom grins, the expression firmly stemming from the look of panic that crosses Hermione's face for reasons he interprets wrongly. While the boy expects her horror to derive from the wrong implications of their unsteady companionship, Hermione is truly panicked at the notion of dating Voldemort.
"Such a shame. You would be stars together," Slughorn pouts, shaking his head sadly before turning away and to the board. Hermione cannot help rolling her eyes at the man, Tom grinning at her in response and with a genuine humor that derives from fellowship, not cruelty. Hermione does not realize it, nor does Tom, but the girl is serving to change the boy in the slightest, his grin more common nowadays than any moment in the past.
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Hermione finds that her Saturday morning is more relaxed than any Saturday prior, her night having been spent in solitude due to a meeting Tom had. Perhaps it's the simple juxtaposition of her aloneness given the past few days, but Hermione finds herself smiling easier, leaving the Common Room early for the library, a typical routine.
"Are you planning to study in the library?" that voice speaks up from near the boy's dormitory, revealing a prepared Tom Riddle with his uniform on and books in his bag. If she did not know any better (which she does), Hermione would think he was waiting for her company.
"Yes, I figured that I would go today and study the books on the Goblin Wars before the rush tomorrow," Hermione complacently remarks, not revealing her inner irritation yet slight gratefulness for the company. This is the Dark Lord, but the more time spent in others' company means the less time Hermione misses home.
"Great minds think alike," Tom remarks, holding open the door to the Common Room before following her to the library, a safe haven of learning.
The next many hours are spent studying, writing, and reading. Their knowledge of many things, though in different subjects, serve to benefit them both, bouncing ideas off one another without the constraints of their differing morals. Hermione finds herself growing closer to the boy in front of her, despite her every intention, given his sheer genius and amiability when it comes to her and knowledge. The hours pass easily and without fight, threat, or taunt, only hindered by the growling of their stomachs and agreement to attend dinner.
The conversation is easier between the two, words spent between mouthfuls of chicken-pot-pie and consisting of academic theories. It is easy to grow closer to someone given united interest, and Hermione and Tom have many when it comes to the realm of knowledge. Of course, there are the avoided topics of immortality, heritage, and power, but overall, the conversation is natural and unrestrained.
On their way from the hall, the two nearly collide with the agile professor of Transfiguration, a despised and loved Albus Dumbledore. His eyes sparkle between the two, a whole new sight for both Hermione (in this time) and Tom. And immediately, they know something is up.
"Hello, Tom and Hermione," the man greets easily, mischievousness effervescent in his facade and perfectly fitting of the green robes that both students wear.
"Professor Dumbledore," they greet, nodding their heads at him, eyes meeting in a silent agreement of suspicion. Moving towards the passage into the Great Hall, Dumbledore stalls as if on a second thought, though all three know this was intended. He turns to them, his eyes looking solely at Hermione now, blue eyes matching the blue of his robes.
"If at all possible, Miss Granger, could you drop by my office tomorrow evening? I have some things to discuss with you in regards to your plans after graduation," the man requests, looking genuine although every scenario is revealed by that glint in his eyes, infuriating to Tom and homely to Hermione.
"I'd be delighted to," Hermione responds pleasantly, meaning her words and consequently feeling no need for the charm she often exerts on professors.
"Then I will see you tomorrow, Miss Granger," Dumbledore says, nodding at them both again before departing into the Great Hall. Not meeting each other's eyes, the two students walk back towards the Common Room, gripping tight to their bags with a renewed tension.
"Do you have any idea what he wants?" the boy finally asks, looking over to Hermione with the intention to catching her lies, if there are any.
"No, I do not," Hermione responds, truly having no clue about the meeting's purpose. She highly doubts that Dumbledore knows of her true background, given that she's not spoken to him other than to answer questions in class. And given her honesty at the words, Tom nods at her in understanding and acceptance.
"We'll need to move the meeting to tonight," Tom remarks on a serious note, looking ahead and then directing their path up to the Room of Requirement.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asks, her cordiality unbecoming of her new identity.
"If I was not sure, I would not be saying we need to do this tonight," Tom practically growls at her and prompting Hermione to nod her head in submission. Tom gazes down at his watch, nearing eight in the evening and reassured by the darkness outside. "Might as well gather them now."
He has them moving quickly into the Room, walking briskly ahead of her and almost tempting Hermione to run after him given his speed. And yet, she does not, realizing that Tom Riddle no longer accompanies her but this figure is one of Lord Voldemort. And thus, she follows behind him, just keeping pace and silence.
He holds the door for her, despite his new identity, closing it firmly behind Hermione before taking to his duties ahead. Removing his jacket and handing it to Hermione, the Dark Lord begins unbuttoning his shirt and prompting her to look away. Distracting herself from the sure sight near her, Hermione recognizes the surprising warmth of Tom's jacket, half expecting it to be as cold as his hands. And yet, it is comfortingly warm with the nice and sharp smell of his cologne clinging to her nose and smothering her breathing.
Distracted again, the snake on Hermione's arm begins slithering in circles, head to tail and with a constant speed and discomfort. She freezes at the feeling, grimacing slightly at the discomfort it causes and prompting Tom's notice as she stares into the green flames.
"Is it painful?" Tom asks, prompting Hermione to swipe her eyes to his, locking them so she is not tempted by his actions of buttoning his shirt.
"Just uncomfortable," Hermione responds, shivering slightly at the feeling. "Like the cold-belly of a fleshy snake is crawling under my skin."
The maliciousness of the Dark Lord is back, still Voldemort, as he grins at the fiery woman beside him, taking the coat from her arms. And yet, he does not readorn it, placing it on the back of the armchair near the fire and prompting Hermione's surprise. Why didn't he do that in the first place?
The others rush into the room like a single pack of wild animals, slightly surprised to see Hermione in the room yet remembering the rumors of the school. They takes their seats quietly and blank their faces, eyes open towards Tom and no one else.
"Having been incapacitated to meet tomorrow, we are meeting tonight instead," Tom explains, beginning his pacing that characterizes these meetings. "You should be prepared already. Orion?"
"My sister would like to meet the Monday after graduation. She was speaking on bringing her fiance as well," Orion answers, feeling a need to succeed given his fear of the Cruciatus and younger age than the remainder of the Knights.
"Tell her that date works well, and that I'd be more than pleased to meet with her and her engaged," Tom responds, prompting Orion to nod his head in respectful understanding. "Good. Now, Lestrange?"
"Goyle does not have the mark yet, so he will not be here," the boy responds, warily but not with complete fear in the eyes of the Dark Lord. Voldemort grins internally at the boy, tempted to set Hermione's rage onto him again just for his own humour.
"He better be here next time, whether or not this meeting is planned for Sunday."
"Yes, my Lord," Lestrange accepts. "We are also in the process of convincing Crabbe."
"Daft, but loyal. I'll take him as well." Tom turns to another Knight, wishing to curse Lestrange, but stuck by his success. "Mulciber?"
"There's been nothing to report, my Lord. The Ministry is still trying to understand Grindelwald's weapon," Mulciber explains fully (shockingly enough) before collapsing under the silent torture that Voldemort inflicts. Some minutes pass, the screams sparking like Tom's magic before the Dark Lord removes it, grinning vengefully.
"Not good enough," the lord remarks, turning to the Malfoy heir, "Abraxas, anything else?"
"Th-the Minister is apparently fearful that Grindelwald will steal the Time-Turner," Abraxas stutters, fearful of the curse and not nearly as strong as Hermione, or so Tom thinks. "That's why he is keeping it on his body."
"An idiot, that man is," Voldemort growls, as if put-out by the mere stupidity of the man he wishes to overthrow. To Hermione, this is simply stupid. "Very well, Malfoy, you pass. Rosier?"
"Can I speak to you afterwards, sir?" Rosier asks, tempting Voldemort's anger yet the Dark Lord knows he wishes for Rosier's mission to be secretive.
"Very well," Tom relents, turning then to Hermione and remembering what has occurred in the lessons. "The duels in Defense went very well, although I still expect your improvement. Hermione will continue to train you, harshly, until you learn all the spells and respect for your superiors. Yes?"
"Yes, my Lord," the monotonous tones echo, Tom's eyes glaring towards a fearful Lestrange.
"Good," he says. "Now, I want Lestrange, Avery, Nott, and Dolohov to pull some pranks. These halls are far too boring nowadays. And remember: nothing permanent that will have us punished."
"Yes, my Lord," the four echo, relieved that this is not a task of great difficulty.
"You may go, and Rosier, stay," Voldemort says swatting the remainder of the group off, Hermione included. She wishes to know of Rosier's mission, to reassure her assumptions, but she knows it would be imprudent to ask Tom for such information. Relenting to ignorance, once again, Hermione moves onward into the night, lonely again and wishing for home.
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Alright, so I do not know if I will have wifi for the next week, and thus, I may not be posting until next Wednesday, approximately. I apologize for the delay, if this is the case.
I would adore you all if you would nominate me for the Fiction Awards at thefictionawards .
Thank you for reading!
xo
Patagonian