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"Exactly. They are the ones who have a seat at His Majesty’s table, and for that pragmatic reason, I must remain in their good graces."
"And if I were to accomplish something comparable?"
Dumbledore regarded Tom with calculation. "We shall see, Lord Thomas. That depends greatly on how you accomplish it." He gestured out at the doors to the Great Hall. "You are here for the basilisk of Slytherin. What do you intend to do with it?"
Tom glared at the older wizard. "You just told me that you aren’t on my side. Why should I tell you my war plans?"
"I hope you don’t intend to use it against the Friends of the Founders."
"I hope not too," Tom said pointedly. "That is not in my plans, at least." He gazed out at the doors and began to walk in that direction.
"I will not interfere with you. You have a way of obscuring the creature’s eyes, I trust?"
"I have cloth in my pack and a cart that I can expand to its proper size."
Dumbledore was silent for a moment as Tom reached the doors. "One last question for you," he said just as Tom began to push them open. "Whom did you kill, Lord Thomas?"
Tom stopped cold. He turned around to face Dumbledore, eyes wide with surprise. He had a horrible feeling that he knew exactly what Dumbledore was asking about. "What are you talking about?" he bluffed, hoping that he was wrong.
"I think you know. I know the physical signs of certain old magic too. I will not pretend to condone all your choices... but you killed one of our shared enemies, I presume. That part is good news. Who was it?"
Tom blinked. It seemed that there was no hiding the facts. "Amycus Carrow," he said. "He tried to kill Hermione. And if you really aren’t my enemy, High Master, you’ll keep your mouth shut," he added savagely, drawing his wand. "Armand Malfoy has done that and worse. The worst."
Dumbledore’s eyes widened. "Lady Hermione’s cousin did say...."
"It’s true," Tom said. "He also used the Killing Frost spell against my mother."
Dumbledore looked appalled. "That has never been seen in the British Isles before."
"It certainly has not."
Dumbledore took a deep breath. "I will stay out of your way if you will limit your vengeance to those who have harmed your family, Lord Thomas. A safe journey to you."
Tom regarded the other wizard for a few more moments before nodding. He opened the great doors and headed for the entrance to the Chamber, his long robes flying behind him.
Tom trod the familiar path to the Chamber. All the while, it seemed burned in his brain that this had ended very badly the last time.... But it won’t happen now, he reminded himself. Dumbledore is the only other person in the castle, and he is staying well clear of this. Hermione is safe at Parselhall, and I won’t die permanently even if I catch a glimpse of its uncovered eyes.
The basilisk still slumbered. Tom hissed a command at it in Parseltongue to awaken it, looking down at the floor as it stirred.
"Master," the snake hissed at him.
"Great Serpent," Tom said, "I have come today to get you out of this castle, and bring you to the home of descendants of your first master—my home. There is work to be done."
The basilisk considered this. "As you wish." It paused. "When you summoned me before, something happened."
"Yes," Tom said, not wanting to think of that. "The material I used to cover your powerful gaze was too thin, and a person saw your eyes through it. My... mate," he said, deciding upon a word that he supposed the basilisk would readily understand. "But she did not die, because she did not look directly upon them. All is well now between us."
"Then I am glad. I have never had a mate, but it would be a hard thing to lose one."
Yes, it would, Tom thought. Aloud he said, "I will need to cover your eyes again, and the cloth is thick this time. You will be safe when I move you. I will protect you."
"As you wish," the basilisk repeated. "My eyes are closed. What kind of work needs to be done?"
Tom summoned the blindfold from his pack and magically expanded it. He cast a spell to make it hover in the air before settling upon the basilisk’s head and tying itself in a comfortable knot, holding it secure but not too tight. He smirked as he began to explain, in Parseltongue, the terrible wrong that had been committed against the descendants of Slytherin.
Tom gladly pocketed the money that he had just received from the sale. The trip to the Scottish coast had been uneventful, but he had passed numerous Muggles on the road. It would have been an issue if he had not had the foresight to buy a horse to pull the cart containing the basilisk, even though he could enchant the cart to drive itself. However, horses did not do well on ships, and he did not need the horse for the short journey from the southern English coast to Parselhall. That was a very magical area anyway, and the Gaunts had frightened away most of the Muggles in that strip between the shore and the castle.
The ship—well, more of a boat, really—was already charmed for speed and safety. A magical Irish family of traders sailed between the islands, and Tom had brought more than enough coin to persuade one of them to captain the boat away from their usual trade route. He had hedged about the nature of the cargo that he was carrying, but took full responsibility for its security while on board. Indeed, the basilisk would not pose a threat to anyone while locked below deck in a magical sleep, its eyes blindfolded.
The Irish wizard was not willing to come ashore himself in England, especially since it was apparent to him that the young lord who had hired him was transporting a magical beast for use in a wizarding war. However, coin was coin, and Tom gave his oath to the man that he would not speak of the transaction to any of his enemies.
He wheeled the basilisk’s cart aboard the ship.
Castle Parselhall at Hangleton.
Hermione and Severus were not quite sure what to do. Sirius Black still had not reappeared, and Harry was growing restless with worry about his mother. The Malfoys had not responded to the letter that the Riddles had sent.
And now, Luna Lovegood and her eccentric father had come to Parselhall to swear loyalty. Hermione and Severus had accepted their oaths in Tom’s name, and Harry was very glad to see Luna, but Hermione was not at all sure that Tom would welcome this. Xenophilius Lovegood was a strange man, and he had never been admitted into the inner circle of the Friends of the Founders. He did not know any of their secrets. Indeed, the Riddles and Severus knew more about their activities than he did.
Still, Hermione thought, fingering the locket around her neck tenderly, a wand is a wand. At least the man could duel. Even if he wasn’t good for anything else, he was good for that.
More problematic was the letter that she held in hand. It was addressed to Tom, but they had opened it after seeing the name of the sender.
My lord Regent of Hangleton,
News has come to me of the alliance between my noble brother-in-law Lord Black and your family. In accord with the rest of my family, I was outraged and appalled at the murder of the late Lord Arcturus Black a year ago. I now express my outrage for the shocking crimes against your family and your lady’s family.
I am pleased that my noble sister and brother-in-law support you, and that their sons—both the acknowledged and the rebel—are in alliances. The actions of Lord Malfoy and Lord Lestrange are acts of war, and I wish to fight beside my family and yours. I speak on behalf of my lady wife, Druella Rosier Black, and our loyal vassal, Caractacus Burke. We have much to share with you.
Respectfully offered,
Lord Cygnus Black
"Tom should see this and decide what to do about it," Hermione said. "Burke used to be part of Malfoy’s plans. He could know quite a lot. If he really has turned his cloak...."
"Pettigrew believed that he had," Severus said. "He said that they called Burke a traitor. The stories check out. Of course Tom will want to perform Legilimency on all of them... and I will want them to take Veritaserum."
"Burke had better not have any ideas about Lady Merope," Hermione said.
Severus clutched his wand. "If he even alludes to it, he will regret it," he said darkly. "It might, in fact, be the last thing he regrets. I won’t tolerate it."
"It will be hard to refuse Lord Cygnus if we want to keep Lord Black with us," Hermione mused. "And possibly Lord Regulus too. Andromeda is Cygnus’s daughter."
"Such are the complications of navigating noble alliances."
She sighed. "I know. I remember... my parents...." Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, which she blinked away. "I still don’t want to do this without discussing it with Tom first. I will explain to him why it’s necessary to admit them... I won’t let him refuse them... but he would probably be offended if we accepted them without consulting with him at all." She put the letter aside.
A few days later, Tom wheeled his cart, once again containing the basilisk, onto a windswept dock. He gave a final glance back at the boat, but the captain merely nodded in acknowledgment, bowed respectfully, and quickly began to turn the helm to get the boat away from the shore.
Coward, Tom thought scornfully—but so it was. He had served his purpose, anyway. Tom cast the spells that would enable the cart to roll itself and leapt aboard, smiling smugly as the salt spray soon gave way to sunny fields. He took a pear and a breadroll out of his pack and began to munch, enjoying the ride.
I will see Hermione again, he thought. It has not been that long, but I’ve missed her. The thought of her warmed him all over once again.
Castle Parselhall at Hangleton.
"My lord!" a house-elf exclaimed, bursting into the parlor. "My lord and my lady! He is here! Lord Master Thomas has returned."
"Does he have something large with him?" Hermione asked, rising from her seat.
The elf nodded gravely. "He sent Fionn to tell Lord Severus and Lady Hermione that he is putting it into the vault first."
"Yes," Severus remembered, "she said it opened from the hillside too. He must be using that entrance instead."
Hermione felt trepidation about the idea of the basilisk of Slytherin being nearby once again, but it was necessary, and Tom had control over it. It could not accidentally get out, and he knew to be careful now.
In a few minutes, the door swung open and Tom walked into the room toward them. He was wearing his dark green cloak and looked, to Hermione, somehow older and more mature than he had when he had left. He is truly a man now, she thought with a bittersweet mix of affection and sadness. Adulthood had come with a price for them both.
He reached the far corner where they sat. His dark hair was windswept, and his face was suffused with satisfaction and pride. The combination was extremely attractive. Hermione’s heart thumped—and then he lifted her out of her seat, to her feet, and pulled her in his arms as he planted a kiss on her lips. He did not care a bit about Severus seeing.
She threaded her fingers into his messy hair as he wrapped his arms tighter around her back. "Welcome home," she murmured next to his mouth as they drew away slowly from each other.
He gazed momentarily at the locket around her neck, a dark, pained look coming over his face at the sight of it. "I never took it off except to bathe," she told him, her voice unexpectedly cracking.
He pulled her close and kissed her again, this one quick but intense. "I will have to ask you to take it off if you insist upon going to war beside me," he said.
She nodded. "Of course."
"Severus," Tom said formally in acknowledgment of his stepfather. Severus had the twins wrapped in a blanket on the two-seat sofa next to him. Tom leaned over, caressing their soft, delicate, still almost hairless heads gently. They stirred at his touch but went back to sleep.
"The basilisk is secured in the vault," he said, taking his place in the grandest chair. Hermione sat down again. "I learned some interesting information from the Longbottoms and Dumbledore. It seems that they are not truly "on the side’ of the Weasleys and James Potter, at least as far as their views are concerned. It’s a strange form of pragmatism for them. They did not believe there was any serious challenge to Malfoy other than that. Now that there is... well, Dumbledore, at least, said he would not get in our way. I think we can outmaneuver the Weasleys and Potter with words and stratagems."
"That is a relief," Hermione confessed. "Meanwhile, we now have the sworn wands of the Lovegoods... who have been quartered here."
Tom nodded. "That does not surprise me. Has Black shown his face yet?"
"Sirius Black? No, he has not," she said as Severus scowled at the mention of that man. "But we have heard from another pair of Blacks. I think you’ll find this interesting. Severus and I did not want to take any action on it until you returned." She reached for the letter from Cygnus Black and passed it to him.
Tom read it, his brows joining together, and then set it aside. "I suppose we must admit them. I will want to examine all of them, but especially Burke. Admitting one opportunist to the castle did not work well for us. Let’s not give free rein to another—and Burke is certainly another." He rubbed his forehead. "Has there been any word from Lucius Malfoy?"
Hermione shook her head. "Nothing, and Harry is increasingly upset about his mother’s captivity."
"I will try to find out from Cygnus’s party if they know anything about Castle Draconis," Tom said. "But Potter should accept that this will be difficult."
"Tom, he is worried that his mother will incur an unbreakable curse from being forced to handle unicorn blood," Hermione said. "Imagine how you would feel if that were your mother."
Tom was silent for a moment. "I understand. She is a priority, and I will make sure Potter knows that. Still, Lestrange is still the one who handles that for now."
"And unless your plans have changed, we intend to use the basilisk to kill Lestrange soon."
"She is a priority," he repeated. "I do not want that to happen to her either! But there’s nothing I can do about it right now. We are doing everything we can. Perhaps Potter should learn how to transform into an animal, like his wretched father and godfather, and sneak into the Malfoys’ castle! Apparently Pettigrew did that to us." He rubbed his forehead again, feeling a headache coming on. "I wish he hadn’t been killed now," he admitted grudgingly. "I spoke in jest, but that would actually be a good idea for someone whose Animagus form was small and unobtrusive. He could have been useful."
Hermione could tell that he was tired and upset. A great deal of responsibility now rested on his shoulders, even if he did share it with her and with Severus. His mother was alive but in a deathly sleep, so he could not even have the closure that came from mourning, as Hermione herself was gradually acquiring. And only about a week ago, he had performed a dark and grievous act out of a sense of duty.
She wanted to comfort him physically, to take him in her arms and shower affection and intimate caresses on him, but the sun still hung in the sky—albeit low—and he had to greet their guests, preside at the dinner table in the grand dining hall for the guests’ sake, and answer Lord Cygnus’s letter. Tonight, she thought.
"You were very authoritative tonight," Hermione murmured to him as he climbed on their bed next to her. "Very lordly before all of the allies at dinner."
He slipped off his outer robe and gazed at her. She had already removed hers and was garbed only in the loose dressing gown that she wore in the warm months. "I have to be," he said. "They look upon me and see an untested youth otherwise."
"No one should think that of you now."
They were in each other’s arms in the next moment, embracing tightly as they tugged on the remaining clothing. Hermione’s dressing gown found its way to the foot of the bed, though it did not fall through the drapes. In return she reached for Tom’s inner robe, pulled it off his arms, and tossed it next to her clothing. The locket dangled between her breasts. His gaze was arrested for a moment as he looked upon it. She noticed that he was staring at the object and lifted it to her lips, placing a light but solemn kiss on it. Even in that brief moment, she realized that she could sense the appreciation of the part of him in the locket. It was strange and upsetting if she thought too hard about it. Tom’s affections were not divided in the common sense of the term, so this should not be happening either. It was sad and wrong for there to be a part of him that was separated from the sensations that his corporeal self experienced in moments like this.
Hermione put it out of her mind. She was quite certain that he had some sort of link with it when he touched it, and it was around her neck. She felt his presence and even heard his voice in her head sometimes when she had tactile contact with it. It wasn’t isolated and alone.
With that thought, Hermione suddenly resolved to wear the locket under her robes when she followed him into battle. That way, no one would see it, but it would still be next to her.
They descended onto the mattress, Hermione’s head sinking into the pillow. Tom placed kisses down her jaw, neck, and upper chest.
She threaded her fingers into his hair as he began to minister to her. "I wanted to be the one to tend to you," she said, feebly protesting.
He looked up, meeting her eyes. "There will be plenty of time for us to take care of each other’s needs tonight," he said. "I missed you. I missed this."
"I missed you too, and you looked so exhausted earlier...."
"I’m not too exhausted to offer my affections to you." To prove his words, he placed his lips on her taut belly, kissing her while he drew circles around her nipples with his fingers. "When I see you... this is why I am doing everything." He kissed her abdomen again, then gazed up at her. "We were always meant for each other, and not just by our parents, but... by fate. By magic itself. You have always been my future, and together we hold the future of our people and our country." He moved up her body, covering her, pressing himself against her from head to toe, their legs intertwining.
Hermione wrapped her arms around his back and her legs around his waist. "I just wish I could offer the proof that I can provide that future."
He understood her. "You will someday, when the time is right. The fact that you’re not with child now means that you are supposed to be near me in the war, just as you wanted, and that means that our fates are linked. We will continue the line after we have achieved this first great goal." He leaned in to give her a kiss as he positioned himself at her core.
Hermione did not generally believe in Divination, signs, portents, and fate to the extent that he did, but she hoped he was right. In that tender, intimate moment, she did believe him.
She gasped in pleasure, and her thoughts fled from such musings at once as they joined. They moved together, hearts racing, heated bodies growing damp with sweat, until they found their satisfaction together and collapsed as one. He exhaled heavily, his breath hot against her ear, as he slid off her, but he remained pressed closely against her all night long.
Cygnus and Druella Black did not waste any time in coming to Parselhall. They made their appearance the very next day, Caractacus Burke following obediently behind them as they approached the high seat of Parselhall to swear loyalty and allegiance. Regulus and his family were still there, and Tom had deemed it advisable to bring them out for this little ceremony. It was a good move; Cygnus and Druella were pleased to see the respect accorded to their daughter and her family.
Burke hovered behind them, taking his oath after the higher-status pair had done so. He eyed the hem of Tom’s robe, clearly wanting to raise his gaze, but not daring to.
"Burke," Tom said, his voice cool and sharp, "you must know that I require evidence of your good faith, given your history. Look into my eyes at once."
Burke gulped, realizing suddenly what the young lord was capable of doing and what he intended, but he obeyed without question. Tom locked eyes with him.
"Your lord implied that you have a great deal of information about Lord Malfoy and Lord Lestrange," Tom said. "I see that this is true. Did you happen to know that Lord Malfoy has made himself deathless?"
"I suspected it," Burke said. "I was quite certain I saw his eyes turn red once. I never encountered the item, though—and I would have known it if I had. With all due respect, your lordship, when I was a lowly shopkeeper, I handled all manner of cursed objects."
"Naturally. That is unfortunate, but not surprising. Even Amycus Carrow did not know what the Horcrux is. We hope that Lestrange does. In any case," he said, "I am also curious if you know anything about Malfoy or Lestrange’s castles... or the castle of Lucius Malfoy."