text stringlengths 0 57.5k |
|---|
He was silent for a moment. "After what I read today about oaths, I do not want to ask you to swear to anything specific," he said. "Just promise me that you will listen to my advice and consider it." |
"I can consider it," she agreed. "I promise you that." |
He kissed her on the forehead. "Good night." |
Hermione wanted to question him further, but drowsiness was tugging at her eyelids too. |
True to his word, Tom gave Hermione a book bound in black leather the next day in the library. Merope was not there, or she might have raised objections. Hermione opened it and eyed the table of contents, turning to the section in question. |
"It was invented by Herpo, the ancient Greek wizard who also bred the first basilisk," Tom said in a low voice. They were by the window, on the far side of the library. He had steered her there in case his mother or Snape came in. "That was why he did it, in fact, to protect himself from its gaze. The Greeks had had the theory for a while, but he was the one who succeeded. From there the knowledge spread to the Romans, and they brought it to the Celts." He paused, thinking. "Hermione, when you read that, please keep in mind that someone could have a legitimate reason for doing it. And it is not the same as slaughtering an innocent for its blood and incurring an unbreakable curse." |
"All right," she said gingerly, beginning to read. Tom stood by uneasily, watching her. Her eyes grew wide, and at one point she actually tilted her head away from the pages, a look of shock on her face. Finally, she finished the chapter. She turned to him, eyebrows high on her forehead. |
"Is this what High Master Dumbledore caught you reading?" |
"No," he said, scowling at that memory. "I was reading about ancient Celtic magic." |
She closed the book. "Tom, are you thinking of doing this?" |
"No," he said at once. He paused. "Well, only if it was a necessity to preserve this family line." He gave her a sardonic smirk. "I would ask Mother to let me have one of the Carrows." |
Hermione put the book back on its shelf. "Please don’t joke about such things." |
He turned and gazed out the window for a moment, then faced her again. "Fair enough. I won’t." |
They observed Christmas and then Tom’s fifteenth birthday. Hermione gave him a gift of a cushion that she had embroidered—with the coat of arms that his mother had created for the wizarding Riddles, he noted with pleasure. |
"I have a gift for you too. It can be a gift to mark the new year," he said. He set the cushion down and raised his wand, summoning something presumably from his bedchamber. |
Merope looked surprised as a package drifted into the room, where Tom was waiting for it. He presented it to Hermione. She pulled away the rough sackcloth that covered it. Beneath was a silken dark green robe. She lifted it to see the entire article of clothing. It was almost a perfect duplicate of the dark green robes he had, the ones with Celtic knot embroidery on the hems, up the middle, and on the edges of the wide trumpet sleeves. |
"We need to wear ours on the same days," he explained. "A matched pair." |
Hermione hardly knew what to think. Tom seemed determined to incite the Lestranges and Malfoys, and he wanted to pull her into his scheme as well. For her part, she had never thought of herself specifically as part Celtic. She knew that she almost certainly was, but she considered herself English. Even her Norman antecedents had settled—or lived their entire lives—in this land, adopting many of the customs of these people, making peace and even marrying into the families of an English lord and a knight. But then, she reflected, she did not have an unbroken line of witches and wizards whom she could trace back to ancient times, as Tom did on his mother’s side. |
She turned to Tom and managed a smile. "Thank you," she said. "This is beautiful." |
He smiled broadly. |
Tom asked that she wear her new robe on the day that they had to return to Hogwarts. As she had expected as soon as he made the request, he appeared in the common areas of the castle wearing his matched robe. He smirked and took her arm with his. "I cannot wait to see the looks on Lestrange and Malfoy’s faces," he said. "And her family are now officially enemies." |
Hermione did not like how eager he was to have this fight. As the elves Disapparated with them, she felt that many things were starting to twist and whirl out of her control, and unlike this Apparition, she was heading for a destination that she did not even know. |
They landed in the Hogwarts courtyard, steadying themselves. The elves set down their trunks, bowed, and Disapparated back to Hangleton. Tom turned to Hermione, admiring her in the robes that he had wanted her to wear. He brought her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles in the innocent, courtly way that he so often did in public—and then he changed his mind. He dropped her hand, wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her close. |
Hermione could hardly believe that he was doing this in the open, but in the brisk cold, his warmth and the heat of their breath when they were so close made this irresistible. She cupped his face and leaned in as he bent his head to meet her lips. Clouds of white vapor escaped their mouths and noses. |
"Riddle!" exclaimed a male voice. Tom pulled away, gazed over her head, and found himself meeting the disapproving gaze of one of his "Lords of Beltane." |
Tom released Hermione and gave Edgar Fawley a rakish smile. "Fawley," he acknowledged. |
The young wizard seemed inclined to say something, but he changed his mind. "It’s good to see you again," he got out. |
"Likewise," Tom said. He quickly disengaged from Hermione. "I had a fine holiday," he said to Fawley, his tone knowing. |
The boy gazed at Hermione, regarding her with undisguised disdain, and a cruelly knowing smile spread over his face. "Ah. I see." |
Hermione looked from Fawley to Tom in shock. "Tom?" she asked, her voice quiet. |
He gazed at her with a superior look on his handsome face and said nothing. One corner of his mouth edged upward. |
He did that to save face with Fawley, she told herself as other young scholars began to appear in the courtyard. Tom moved away from her as a couple of other boys from his group of friends arrived. Her heart seemed to twist in her chest. He needs these allies, she thought over and over. His mother is almost alone otherwise. She has no real allies other than my family. He needs to cultivate these people. Showing affection publicly to me is not usual for nobles. He has to look superior before them.... |
Hermione wandered in a circle around the courtyard, hardly paying attention to what was happening around her, locked into her own thoughts as Tom talked with his friends apart from her. The series of thoughts whirled around her head as she tried to console herself. |
"Lady Hermione!" |
Hermione stopped cold and looked for the source. Harry had just appeared, and beside him were Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. Hermione beamed, her heart suddenly a little lighter. She glanced quickly in the direction of Tom, but he was preoccupied with a discussion with his friends. Very well, then. Hermione walked over to the group of her friends. |
"How was your visit with Lady Riddle?" Harry asked her. |
She almost allowed her face to fall but caught herself. "It is always a pleasure to see her," she rallied. She considered briefly whether to tell her friends about Merope’s decision to sentence the Carrows. It was not exactly pleasant gossip, but at the same time, Merope certainly did not intend for the order to be secret. She finally said, in a lowered voice, "Lady Merope took action against a pair of vassals who had broken their oaths to her and sworn to the Lestrange family." |
Harry, Neville, and Luna all looked surprised and interested. "What did she do?" Harry asked in an equally quiet voice. |
"She sentenced them to death before the entire village of Hangleton. Of course, the Lestranges will protect them, but it is an official sentence. Oh—she named the Lestranges enemies of her family for harboring them and accepting their oaths, too." |
Harry’s green eyes widened. "Did she send out a crier to proclaim it? Mercy on his soul if she did," he muttered. |
"Wizarding nobles use owls," Neville said. His face colored. "I mean, my parents told me that. They send an owl to the castle of the lord they named as enemy, as well as to any of their own allies who aren’t vassals of theirs. It drops a small scroll... from a distance if there is a danger... and flies away." |
"Well, then, I am certain that she would have done that," Hermione agreed. "I don’t think she has noble allies other than my parents and her own vassal Lord Severus Snape, but I’m sure she would have sent the message to the Lestranges. There’s little point in making the proclamation if no one outside the village hears of it." |
Tom was still talking with his friends, who were giving Hermione and her own friends blatantly scornful looks. Harry raised his eyebrows in their direction but did not ask Hermione any personal questions. She was grateful; if he had been so unmannerly as that, she would have had to lie. |
At the Slytherin table in the Great Hall that evening, Tom continued to be cool to Hermione. He escorted her into the castle and sat next to her, as he had always done, but he hardly spoke a word to her during the entire meal, talking instead with his male friends in tones that she could barely make out. When he deigned to look at her at all, his handsome face was full of arrogant disdain. |
Should I make a point of talking with Harry? she wondered, picking at her food. Tom became jealous last year when I did that, and I was not even trying to make him feel that way. Or... would that make matters worse? He responded badly when he was jealous before. He blamed Harry and took it out on him. That’s not what I want. |
I understand about making alliances, and I even understand about not showing too much intimacy before outsiders... but there is no occasion for him to ignore me like this, or look at me so arrogantly when he does pay attention to me. Hermione stabbed her roast pork angrily with her knife and picked up a piece to eat. She was not close to crying. She was furious. This is not going to continue, she vowed to herself. If he really is the leader of those boys, then he should assert his authority and order them to accept our relationship. He doesn’t have to flaunt it in public, like he started to do in the courtyard, but what he’s doing right now is unacceptable, and I am going to tell him that. |
Down the table, Adelaide Lestrange and her circle of female associates—all of the Slytherin girls except Hermione, the Greengrass sisters, and Millicent Bulstrode—eyed the other half of the House. Hermione studied them as unobtrusively as she could. There was something in Adelaide’s eyes that she had rarely, if ever, seen before. Some of the girl’s insufferable arrogance was gone, and in its place was a cold wariness. Yes, Merope must have sent word to the Lestranges by owl. |
High Master Dumbledore ascended to speak, and the conversations of the scholars filling the hall subsided. He smiled sadly as he began to speak. |
"Welcome back to all! I am glad to see all of you back in good health and spirits, and I hope that all who visited family took good cheer from that time with them." He forced a broader smile on his face, but it reverted to the sad one immediately. "Our families are supremely important, as we all know, and we must remember them every day as we go about our studies here at Hogwarts." His gaze darted around the Great Hall, not settling on any one person. "It can be hard for us to keep our most solemn oaths when we are presented with other paths. But we are wizards and witches, and our word, more so than the word of our Muggle neighbors—or subjects—carries great power." |
Tom was suddenly paying strict attention. Hermione noticed, with some satisfaction, that he looked uncomfortable. As he well should, she thought smugly. She wondered if Dumbledore knew somehow, despite not having locked his gaze with her or Tom. It was possible that he had deduced something of the truth if he had paid any attention to the Slytherin table. Tom was not exactly making it subtle. |
"But at the same time, let us not forget, in our loyalty and devotion, that we are all witches and wizards, and we are all of this land. Many groups of people have come over the centuries. The library, the tapestries and banners in this castle, and the very architecture of the castle itself all reflect this fact. This is a land of great magical power, and it is a terrible tragedy when our magical power as a people is fractured. This has happened before—indeed, it is part of the history of this school itself—and we still bear the scars." He paused, and a dark look came over his aged face, one that seemed to coincide with a sudden chill in the air and a faint, almost imperceptible dimming of the candlelight throughout the Hall. "We are living in a time of tumult. There is political discord among us, and the Muggles are fighting a war for their throne. Although Divination was not my first speciality, I did attain mastery in this subject... and I fear that the stars are against unity for us as well. Never forget, though, that you are human beings with free will and magical power of your own to shape the world." |
On that dark note, Dumbledore stepped back and took his seat. For another couple of seconds, no one spoke, and then the murmur of talk began anew, just much quieter and more subdued than before. |
"That was grim," Harry muttered to Hermione. |
She agreed. "He must have heard. And of course, the Wizards’ Council—by which I mean Lord Malfoy," she added cynically, "passed their dreadful laws earlier." |
Harry nodded. "My father and godfather told me that Dumbledore doesn’t care much for Divination. He must be very worried since he mentioned the stars." |
"I don’t care much for Divination either," she said, "because I think it’s rubbish to look for signs in smoke, or to believe that someone’s fate is written into their palm—what of someone who has lost a hand, then?—but Master Dumbledore’s view of it makes more sense. There are large forces that can shape the general direction of events, but we have power too. We’re not...." She struggled to find a metaphor. "We’re not driftwood in a sea." |
Tom returned to his friends, and Hermione noticed with some dismay that his face was set in hard lines. |
Hermione did not have an opportunity to confront Tom that evening; he spent the rest of the night in a corner of the Slytherin common room, surrounded by his friends, conversing in almost inaudible tones with them. She sat apart, reading a book, Harry sitting next to her and silently offering his support. She felt surrounded, between Tom’s friends and the Lestrange-Malfoy side staking out their territories in the common room. Dumbledore’s words appeared to have fallen on deaf ears. |
Finally the young people in the common room began to disperse and go to their dormitories to get some rest. Lestrange, Malfoy, and their associates departed first. Tom’s friends left next, leaving him in the room with Hermione and Harry. He sat by himself for a few moments after the last of his pack left. Then he got up and walked gingerly to where Hermione sat. Her features hardened as he approached. |
"You may go now, Potter," he said haughtily. |
Beside her, Harry stiffened. "I choose not to, Riddle." |
Tom was taken aback. His black eyebrows narrowed on his forehead. "Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I order you to go while I speak in private to her." |
Harry reached for his wand. Hermione quickly placed her hand on his wrist, stopping him before he could draw on Tom. She noticed that Tom did not like it one bit when she touched Harry, but she did not particularly care right now. |
"Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it in front of him," she said, gazing angrily at him. "He has already seen how you have treated me all evening. I’m sure he doesn’t want to leave me alone with you after witnessing that." |
Tom drew his wand, but he seemed unsure as to whether to point it at Harry or Hermione. He clutched it in his hand, glaring at each of them. "I asked him to protect you from enemies. He has no right to protect you from me." |
Outrage instantly flooded Hermione at that. Her wand was pointed directly between his eyes before either Tom or Harry could react. "Oh, is that so?" she snarled. "If I need to be protected from you, then he absolutely should be here." |
"That isn’t what I meant," Tom said, flustered. "I misspoke. I would never harm you. I just meant that he doesn’t need to be here while we talk privately." |
"He will be here." Her wand remained pointed at Tom’s forehead. |
He scowled. "Lower your wand, Hermione." He reached for it himself and pulled her hand down, glaring back at her. "You must understand what happened in the courtyard. I... lost control. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. It’s not appropriate in public." |
Harry gazed at Hermione in surprise. She remembered that he had not seen the actual precipitating event for Tom’s cold treatment of her. |
"It’s as I explained before: They—my friends—think it’s just a typical noble betrothal. They understand that, but when Fawley saw us starting to kiss"—he gazed defiantly at Harry as he spoke the words—"he thought that it meant it was what I wanted too." |
Hermione drew back as if he had hit her. "What? Isn’t it?" she cried. |
Tom grimaced, his eyes fluttering shut. "It is! I didn’t mean that. I just meant that Fawley... he realized it. That’s what I meant to say. He realized it. I had to convince him otherwise." |
"So you lied to him." |
"Does that bother you?" |
"Considering what you would have to say in order to convince him of this lie, yes, it rather does bother me!" she exclaimed. "I heard what you said in the courtyard, Tom. That "I had a fine holiday,’ and that little grin on your face. You must have made me out to be some sort of...." She broke off, fuming. |
Tom glared at Harry. "Potter, I want you out of here." |
Hermione shook her head. "Do you really imagine I won’t tell him what you say?" |
Harry pulled away. "No," he said at once. "He’s right. I don’t think I need to be here. You should talk with him, and settle your differences, and I’m getting in the way of that. Good night, Hermione." With a parting look, he scurried away, closing the door to the boys’ dormitories behind him. |
Tom’s eyes were cold and dark. "So is that it? You tell Potter our private business?" |
"It is hardly "private business’ when you make a point of treating me with contempt before all your little "friends,’ and apparently telling them that I have thrown myself at you, or something like that." |
"What does it matter what they think? Why do you care if they believe lies? You should feel smug that you know the truth about our relationship and they don’t." |
"Not if they think I’m a hussy. That’s what you were convincing them of, isn’t it, Tom? That I threw myself at you, and who were you to reject a girl who does that? That’s another thing that they "understand’ about nobles, isn’t it?" she said savagely. |
"Hermione, I need them! Do you not understand, my mother has no outside allies except your family—and they’re half-Norman Muggles!" |
"Are their families allied with your mother now?" |
He looked down at his shoes. "My plan is that they will be eventually." |
"And just what exactly does it matter that my parents are half-Norman?" she challenged. "How is that relevant, Tom? I understand that Muggles can’t offer that much to a witch for defense, but why is their ancestry important? Please tell me." |
"You know exactly why it is important." |
"I want you to say it. I want you to tell me, right now, what you discuss with these boys. Explicitly." |
"I have told you, we talk about Slytherin, and—" |
Hermione suddenly noticed the clasp on his outer robe. It was solid black, but there was a faint wisp of magic just surrounding it. She reached out and touched the article. While her fingers made contact, it flashed the symbol he had worn in the fall, the Celtic Triquetra in green and silver. |
She withdrew her hand, and the button reverted to its black enameled state. She regarded Tom with an even gaze. "You talk about more than Slytherin," she said. "You’ve persuaded these boys that you are rightfully a prince, haven’t you?" |
Tom was silent. |
"That is why they have decided to follow you, after you spent your first year at this school being derided and ignored by everyone in your House, including them. Being raised to the nobility is not enough to turn them into followers. That merely makes you a social equal—except for the fact that you’re half-blood. They follow you, in spite of your half-blood status, because they see you as royal, as the long-lost Celtic heir that they want to overthrow the Malfoy rule." Her voice cracked at the end. |
"What of it?" he said in a low voice. "It’s true, you know." |
"I’ve said before how dangerous this is, but apparently that means nothing to you," she said, her voice wobbling. "So what place do I have in this? What of our future? Will they continue to support you when you are married to me? Our children won’t be "pure.’ What will your friends think of that, Tom?" |
He breathed deeply. "I’m sure I can persuade them when the time comes." |
"I’m not sure of that at all, especially since you’ve tried to have it both ways now." |
"I beg your pardon?" |
"You want to enjoy my affections as your fiancée, but you also want these boys to think that you regard me as a Norman slut." |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.