Author's Note: Here you go, last chapter of the week, probably. Tom makes an official appearance, and you get to be the judge of him.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money.
Special thanks to my beta, AllShadesofGrey! *showers with cookies*
Everything's going well.
~HG
Lavender was in tears when Hermione saw her in the kitchen. She had just gone all the way up to the fourth floor of the Manor, getting lost at least twice trying to find the Owlery, only to be greeted by her sobbing friend when she returned. Hermione's headache only increased, and she massaged her temple tiredly. This was not a good time for one of Lavender's rants, though to Hermione, it never was.
Hermione had had a nervous spaz on her journey to the fourth floor whenever the floorboard creaked or a rat scuttled by. She hated all this sneaking around and knew that she would receive terrible punishment if they were to catch her going to the Owlery without permission, but her father had demanded a report every week. So far, she had nothing report, so she scribbled down as little as she possibly could without annoying her father, and sent an owl into the afternoon sky.
"We have a guest tonight!" Lavender bawled before Hermione had a chance to speak. She was completely baffled by Lavender's strange behavior. Her usually cheerful face was covered in tears and Hermione would've felt sympathetic towards her if she hadn't been so damn loud. "Tonight! In two hours! It's terrible!"
"Yeah, so?" Hermione looked at her friend, wondering what the big deal was. "We've known that the Riddle guy will be coming since the day we got here. Why so upset now?" Hermione glanced towards the stew heating up on the stove. It seemed alright. It didn't look like Lavender screwed up the cooking.
"Abraxas is inviting someone over?" Lavender replied, surprised, momentarily forgetting about her depression. "I didn't know that. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm surprised you didn't know," came Harry's voice as he stepped back into the kitchen after a quick shower. His hair was slicked back, still wet and sticking all over the place, though it was the neatest Hermione had ever seen his hair. "Hermione's been talking about it so much, I couldn't forget, even if I wanted to. She's obsessing."
Hermione glared at Harry, and turned away. It was true though; out of all of Abraxas's friends, he had talked about Riddle the most, though Hermione could figure out through Abraxas's expressions while he was talking about him that the two weren't exactly typical 'friends.' Hermione was very excited to meet him, even though she couldn't converse with him without blowing her cover. She had found out through Abraxas that Riddle was ridiculously smart. Hermione loved smart people, almost as much as she loved books. She couldn't even wait to hear him speak.
"Oh, really?" Lavender asked, suddenly curious. Hermione groaned; leave it to Harry to pique up Lavender's interest. She did not want to listen, nor explain anything. She had begun a comparison chart just the night before, comparing Grindelwald's presence and Lavender's rants. So far, Grindelwald's presence was winning.
Lavender's voice only intensified Hermione's headache as she continued. "Tell me about this Riddle guy."
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know that much. Abraxas said that he's pretty good-looking though, so you can have something to look forward to." She hoped Lavender would decide to shut up and drown herself in her daydreams.
No such luck.
Instead of looking pleased like Hermione expected her to, Lavender looked downright horrified. "Pretty good-looking?" she shrieked, and Hermione fought the urge to cover her ears. Harry, apparently, wasn't so nice, as he fished out some earplugs from his pockets and plugged them in his ears. Lavender didn't notice. "Oh no, that means that Abraxas is out of the running too. What am I going to do?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "No. I'm a hundred percent positive there is no romantic relationship or attraction between Riddle and Abraxas at all." She bit back from adding that there wasn't any chance for a relationship between Lavender and Abraxas either, and while she normally wouldn't hold back from being blunt, the girl looked depressed enough as it was, and Hermione was sure that another screech from Lavender and her head was going to fall off.
"Funny how you should know that, Hermione," Harry suddenly grinned, nudging her side playfully. Hermione didn't like the look on his face. "I don't think I've ever seen you so avidly defending something before. Are you sure there's nothing you would like to tell us?"
Hermione glared at her friend, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Lavender's face light up like nothing happened, like she wasn't just washing the kitchen floor with her tears. Sighing, she interrupted Lavender before the girl could start interrogating and ranting. "No, absolutely nothing, Harry."
"Such a shame," Harry replied cheekily, before turning towards Lavender. Hermione wanted to wipe the grin off of his face. "Well, if Hermione here happens to be wrong, you always have Gabriel to run to, don't you?"
Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest and glowered at Harry. "Hermione Granger is never wrong," She said in her best bossy voice. To be wrong makes someone right, her father had always told her. To be wrong puts someone above you.
Harry just grinned at her, while Lavender's face fell again. The girl sure had a lot of mood swings, Hermione thought. Hermione wondered absentmindedly if Lavender was pregnant and she had somehow missed it.
"But that's the thing!" Lavender wailed, and Hermione was afraid that one of the Malfoys would pop in the kitchen and curse them for slacking. She didn't know how they could not hear the shrieking girl. Hermione cursed her ears for being so sensitive. "Gabriel's bringing his girlfriend tonight! I just found out earlier. He has a girlfriend. He's not available anymore." She dissolved in tears.
Hermione shot Harry a glance, but he just shrugged. He'd never want to date you, and you don't want to date him anyways, Hermione refrained from saying. While that would've been a perfectly acceptable thing to say in front of her father, it looked like there were different standards outside on what was 'nice' and what was 'mean.'
"It looks like Gabriel's all grown up now," Hermione opted to say instead. "Since his girlfriend's here, he'll stop bothering me." Thank Merlin, she added mentally.
"How can you say that?" Lavender screeched, and Hermione winced as the sharp noise cut through her brain. That was it; it was going to burst. Maybe provoking the girl wasn't the best idea. "He's the best thing that has ever happened to me here! He's been so nice to me. I wouldn't expect you to understand." Sniffling loudly, she climbed down the stairs to her room and slammed the door.
Hermione sighed, and caught the amused glance that Harry was giving her. "Don't say anything," she warned him, taking out a piece of juicy steak. Dinner had to be absolutely perfect tonight, though Hermione had no idea why. Maybe she really was as Harry said, obsessing over someone who was out of her league. "One more word and my head is going to explode."
"I wasn't going to," Harry said, and then added after a small pause. "You did that on purpose though. Don't you think you should have sympathy on the poor girl? She really believes she's in love with him, you know?"
Hermione opened her mouth to retort. Lavender was a lost cause sometimes, but if Harry, too, sided with her, she didn't know what to do. Abraxas was nice, but they were on different social levels. She had to converse with people on her own social class, shouldn't she? However, she spotted the corners of his mouth fighting to switch up, and she smacked his arm, careful not to use too much force. "Harry, you're worse than me!" She exclaimed. "It's not nice to make fun of her." Making fun of people couldn't hurt anyone, but she kept her mouth shut.
Harry simply shrugged and said, "Not that I'm complaining about your lovely presence," He said, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. "But don't you have an appointment with a certain blond prince? I'm sure he wouldn't like that you keep him waiting."
One glance at the clock informed her that she was already five minutes late. Quickly, she rinsed her hand and tossed the knife and the fork in her hand across the room. Harry's eyes widened as they landed neatly in the cabinets. "Bye," she said, the word foreign in her mouth. She had never bid someone farewell before; she simply left.
Harry, however, was still staring at the silverware with his mouth wide open. Grinning slightly, she hurried out of the kitchen.
ஐ
Hermione opened the door slowly. She had been to the room so many times over the past few days she had memorized almost every aspect of it, but it still sent the chills down her spine whenever she entered. But then again, the whole manor had that effect on her. There was just something gloomy about the entire place.
She was sure that if her father had a manor, it would look like this. However, he was always on the move, too busy and paranoid to stay in one place for too long. And wherever Grindelwald went, she went.
The room was illuminated only by the setting sun, and Hermione spotted Abraxas quickly. He was standing near the open window, the wind blowing softly at his hair. The sun cast a shadow on his figure, and Hermione noticed how pale he really was. Hermione could definitely see why Lavender obsessed with his looks. He certainly wasn't ugly.
She stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind her. Upon hearing the sound, Abraxas turned his head, his eyes piercing into hers. It held none of the warmth she had been used to seeing for the past few days. Instead, they were as cold as the tundra. Panic gripped her; did he find out about her mission? Was her owl intercepted? Hermione shuddered to think of all that could've gone wrong.
Abraxas looked at her lazily, cocking his head to one side and said, "You're late," He raised his finger and beckoned when Hermione opened her mouth to explain. "Come here."
Hermione took a step closer, still slightly worried about his weird behavior, but Abraxas shook his head. "Closer," he said, and then snorted when she took another tiny step. "We don't have all day. Get over here."
Hermione slowly walked over to him. He was taller than her. Hermione only reached his chin. It had never bothered her before, but now she felt strangely annoyed that he could look down on her.
He said quietly, "Look out the window. Tell me what you see."
Slightly startled, Hermione took her eyes off of him and stared outside. "I—er—see trees?" She didn't know what he wanted to hear. There were millions of things she could name. "And the sun, and the sky," She turned back towards him, confused.
Hermione could swear she saw him grin, but when she looked back towards him, his face was blank again. "What do you see to the left?"
Now slightly suspicious, she did as he asked and stuck her head out the window, looking to the side. She saw nothing out of ordinary, just endless rows of trees and the beautiful sunset. There were no windows where her father resided. Having being deprived of the sun for so long, it was now one of the most beautiful things that she had ever seen. "I don't see anything that's not normal," She said, slightly uneasy now. His mysteriousness reminded her of Grindelwald."Abraxas, are you-"
She suddenly felt his hands on her back, and before she could process what he was doing, she felt him give a small push. Losing her balance, she fell out the window, shrieking and flailing, the ground becoming closer and closer. She could suddenly not find her wand in her pockets, but it didn't matter. She was going to hit the ground before she could cast any spell, anyways.
I'm dying. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Splat goes the traitor. Hermione would've laughed if she weren't so terrified.
Just as her face was going to be introduced to the ground, she felt strong arms encircling her waist, and she jerked upwards. The ground got farther and farther away, but Hermione could barely register it. Her mind was a mess, and she was shivering uncontrollably.
A strong laugh echoed in her ear. "Well, Hermione," said Abraxas's gleeful voice. It held none of the coldness that it had moments ago. Hermione was too scared to feel relieved, though. Flying was one of the only weaknesses she had. It was one of the only things that could get her demeanor to slip. "That was fun. Want to do that again?"
Hermione breathed heavily, trying to calm her fast beating heart. When she was sure she was in no danger of puking if she opened her mouth, she turned around to glare at him. Her father had always taught her that sometimes, speaking calmly was just as intimidating as hollering. She took a deep breath and said to his insufferable grinning face, "Are you kidding me?"
He just chuckled and dodged her weak attempts to punch him. She was still trembling. Grindelwald always thought it was weird how she could withstand hours of torture, while pick her up five feet and she'd be shaking all over. "I must be better at acting than I originally though," he said happily. "This worked better than I planned. I didn't expect you to listen to me, but you even went and made it easier for me by sticking your head out the window."
"You pushed me out the window," Hermione stared at him accusingly, jabbing his shoulder with her finger.
"So I did," Abraxas said, his mouth close to her face. It felt strangely nice. His eyes were a beautiful twinkling blue, illuminated by the beautiful sunset in front of them.
"Why?"
Abraxas gestured around him. "So I could take you flying. You said you never had the chance to, so here we are," It was then Hermione realized just where she was. She had been so focused on yelling at Abraxas that she hadn't noticed the two of them currently sat on a broom thirty feet in the air, her feet skimming over some of the taller trees. The mansion was a black spot in the distance, and Hermione was too aware that they were flying in the wrong direction. "It's not so bad, is it?"
"Let me down!" She suddenly shrieked, her calm act going right out the window. She startled Abraxas so much he almost let go of his grip on her. "There's a reason I don't fly! I'm afraid of heights!" She grabbed the broom with both hands, her knuckles quickly whitening. This was not fun.
Abraxas pressed his mouth to her left ear. "Now, Hermione, try something fun once in a while." He whispered, his words barely coming out as more than a breath. "Do you honestly think I'd let you fall?"
Hermione shook her head, but couldn't stop herself from looking down. She trembled, noticing how they were gathering elevation. "No, but please," She hated how she was pleading. If there was one thing her father hated, it was for her to beg. She hated begging. "Let me down please,"
Abraxas's lips quirked and he chuckled, gently turning her around so she was facing forward instead of looking at him. "I honestly doubt you want me to let you down here," He snickered. "It's about a fifty foot fall by now. I don't think you'd make it down alive. Some of the trees down there have a lot of branches. You'll probably have fifty holes through your body by the time you get to the ground."
Hermione gulped. She had enough near death experiences for a lifetime. "Can you fly closer down to the ground? I'll get off, and you can continue your training. I wouldn't want to bother you with my presence." She looked at him hopefully.
Abraxas laughed. "Just close your eyes," He told her. "You're only scared because you see how high we are. If you close your eyes, you can just feel." He sighed when she was still hesitant. "Come on, I'm a good flyer. What, you don't trust me?"
"I have a perfectly good reason not to," Hermione muttered, but closed her eyes anyways. Abraxas was right; it was much better when she didn't see how high up she was. Her lack of sight made her feel more secure. She didn't relinquish her tight hold on his broom, though. "I found you bleeding on the floor because of your flying skills."
"Don't remind me," Abraxas groaned. "One of my rather unflattering moments."
"You seem to have a lot of those."
"Don't tease me, Hermione," he said, but Hermione could hear a grin in his voice. "You forgot where we are. One more mean word from you, and you might just find my arm slipping," As if to prove it, Hermione felt with horror his arms moving away from their tight grip around her waist. She yanked them back.
"You wouldn't," Hermione wanted to glare, but didn't dare to open her eyes. It ruined the effect. He merely chuckled.
"I would," Abraxas replied cheekily, and then added in a mischievous voice, "Since you're all settled down now, let the real fun begin." Before Hermione could protest, he maneuvered the broom, zigzagging it across the sky at speeds she didn't even know were possible. When Hermione had made the mistake of pinching him, he had grinned and flipped them upside down.
There were some days Hermione really hated her father. And as she sat on the broom as Abraxas flew around like a manic, she really hated Grindelwald for sending her on this mission, which was clearly suicidal.
ஐ
An hour later, Hermione found herself cleaning up the main ballroom, her attempting to calm herself down. As soon as Abraxas had let her down after performing his stunts, she had promptly socked him in the balls and left him there in pain. He deserved it anyways; he did push her out the window, and he even had the nerve for making fun of her ungraceful drop. Though, it was the most fun she had had in a long time. However, being Grindelwald's daughter, she inherited every bit of stubbornness he had in him. And when Abraxas asked her how the ride was, she told him it was the worst experience in her life.
A look of hurt crossed his face, but Hermione shrugged it off and went to the kitchen to steal something to eat.
Gabriel's girlfriend, Walburga Black, was subject to arrive in any moment. Riddle would be coming just before dinner, so Hermione didn't need to expect him for a while.
As for Abraxas, he had refused to give any information about Walburga, claiming that if he were to open his mouth about her, nothing good would spew out. He and his brother really were different. Hermione didn't know how she could've confused the two of them on her very first day.
She had then asked about Riddle. Abraxas's expression instantly changed, his grin sliding off his handsome face.
"What do you want to know about Tom?" His voice was guarded, his eyes missing the familiar light she had been so used to seeing. She had shrugged, not knowing what she wanted, really. She just wanted information. He sighed.
"Tom is complicated," Abraxas finally admitted. "He's dangerous, so don't get too close to him. However, he's-" He struggled to find a word. "Nice. He can be nice when he want to."
"Nice," Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, nice." He nodded. "People think wrongly of him a lot. In reality," He seemed to glance towards his left arm nervously, but when she looked at it, she didn't see anything out of ordinary. "He's human. He often denies he needs friends, but then comes running back to them when he needs help. And he's one of those people who you want to help. It just makes you feel better, feel prouder."
"Sounds like he's spoiled," Hermione said. Abraxas's eyes only got darker, however, and he shrugged. The topic was then dropped.
Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts when the doorbell rang loudly. Making sure her wand was still tucked in place and out of sight, she wiped her hands off on her rags and opened the door. Outside stood a person dressed in green robes, just as Abraxas had been. Hermione's eyes wandered up their body and she looked into the dark eyes of—
A man?
"You're not Mistress Black," she said timidly, adding a little tremble for the effect. She took in his jet black hair that was parted towards the right. His eyes were blue as well, but not like Abraxas's. They were dark and guarded. His expression was indifferent, and his eyes swept over her lazily. Hermione didn't miss the look of disgust that crossed his eyes as he looked at her rags. He carried a small luggage with him, which was floating in the air behind him.
He raised an eyebrow, though Hermione couldn't tell if he was amused or angry. "No, I am not Walburga. Are you expecting her?"
Before Hermione had a chance to open her mouth and screw herself up again, Gabriel flounced down from his room. "Wallieee," he called, and then stopped short of the person in front of him. The boy had stiffened when he saw Gabriel, but inclined his head in a polite nod. Gabriel didn't seem to notice.
"Hello, Tom," Gabriel said, and Hermione stared. That was Riddle? Hermione didn't know what she expected, but something less sinister. Abraxas made Tom sound like a celebrity. "We weren't expecting you to get here so early."
"Neither was I," Tom said smoothly, stepping into the house. The luggage floated in with him. Gabriel shot her a warning glance, and Hermione realized how rude she was being. She was a servant, standing there, eavesdropping on the conversation of two wizards. She'd just take the luggage and eavesdrop from the other room.
Bending her head down low so she could seem scared, she said in a measly voice, "May I take your luggage, Master Riddle?" She could feel his gaze on her for what seemed like forever, until he nodded ever so slightly. She seemed to pass his inspection as a slave, and she breathed out in relief. Another person fooled.
Hermione reached out to tug the floating luggage, but he cancelled the levitating spell as soon as she came in contact with it. Surprised by the sudden weight, Hermione's arms sagged with the weight, and she almost dropped the luggage on Riddle's foot. She caught it, barely, but by accident, her arm brushed against the ring on his left hand.
She had barely had time to register his eyes darkening before she was thrown against the wall, the luggage tumbling after her. The bottom bumped into her head, and the wheel cut through her skin, leaving a fresh raw mark. Hermione touched her head and felt liquid flowing from it. Crap. She looked up again, fearfully, and saw Riddle with a murderous glare on his face, and Gabriel snickering darkly next to him.
Hermione's eyes darkened furiously, and she had to struggle to regain a grip on her temper and not lash out at him. She wasn't going to blow her cover just because the stupid pureblood had anger management issues.
"Well, honey, I think I rather like you in that position," Gabriel sneered, and Tom looked at him in disgust, before continuing on to the living room as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't just almost murdered her with his luggage. Gabriel had shot one last leer at her before following him. Hermione waited until she heard the living room door close before she started to get up, groaning as pain jabbed at her side.
It had been so long since she had been hit with a spell. Her father's, of course, didn't count. He cursed her for fun every day.
She glanced down at the luggage suspiciously. There was no way that was the Riddle Abraxas spoke so much about. There was no way that Abraxas would associate with someone so dark, so dangerous, so evil. What had he said? 'He's nice.' Yes, Hermione thought, snorting. He certainly was so nice, wasn't he? Murdering a person at first sight just because they accidently brushed against him.
Abraxas, though he liked to deny it, was a nice person. Tom, though he tried to mask it with indifference, clearly was not. The two of them shouldn't mix. Just because they were in Slytherin didn't mean that they had to associate with each other.
He's dangerous, so don't get too close to him.
That was the understatement of the year. Hermione shuddered, and pulled herself slowly to her feet. She was going to have to get herself down to the servant's quarters to fix herself up; she wasn't going to risk pulling out her wand right there. Hermione glanced down at Riddle's luggage, and was tempted to just leave it there, but decided not to. She had angered him enough, and if he cursed her again, she wasn't sure she could hold back.
When was the last time she had actually picked up something manually? Groaning slightly at the weight, she finally managed to balance it in her arms when a voice behind her spoke, startling her. She almost dropped it again, and refrained from spewing curses when the wheel of the luggage bumped into her side painfully.
"What are you doing?"
Abraxas stood in front of her, grimacing when he saw the streak of blood on her head. He wore a blank mask, but his eyes were staring at her in concern. He made no move to help her, though, and Hermione quickly found out why. Lady Malfoy was standing behind him, her wand in her hand, and she played with it idly. Hermione didn't drop her gaze, even though she knew it was disrespectful.
"Riddle is here," Hermione said, not risking a glance at Abraxas even though she wanted to. "He's in the living room. I'm taking his luggage to his room." She couldn't quite keep the exasperated tone out of her voice.
Abraxas nodded, though he raised an eyebrow at her flippant tone. He started pulling his mother towards the living room. However, before he could, a sinister grin crossed Lady Malfoy's face and she nonchalantly pointed her wand at Hermione. She saw it coming hours before it hit her, but there was little she could do without raising suspicion.
This is going to be the death of me.
She was once again thrown against the wall, this time her hand landing at an awkward angle. She heard it crack, and winced in pain. The luggage fell right next to her, missing her completely. Layd Malfoy didn't seem to notice, but Abraxas glanced at her sharply. She maintained an blank look on her face. There was no need for him to know she could do wandless magic.
Lady Malfoy laughed, and then exited the room. Abraxas shot her an apologetic look, but didn't dare to help her. She would've refused his help anyways; she could handle a little blood. He hurried after his mother. Hermione waited until he was out of the room until she tried to get up. Making sure that they were both of the room, she levitated the luggage and quickly sprinted to Riddle's bedroom and deposited in his room. Then, before she could stop herself, she turned the whole room pink and sparkly.
She was walking down the hallway when she heard someone curse under his breath. She couldn't help but smirk as Riddle took in his bedroom with a disgusted look on his face. Still hidden from sight, Hermione quickly slunk away before he could notice her.
ஐ
"Hermione, I'm really sorry," Abraxas said, guilt etched on his face as he inspected her. Finding nothing out of ordinary, he sat back, but his worry was still evident. "I honestly don't know what happened to my mother, or Walburga, for that matter. They usually aren't like that-"
"Abraxas, all your blabbering is giving me a headache," She had noticed he hadn't apologized for Riddle, but decided to let it pass. "I'm fine. I've been through worse." She flexed her fingers slightly, wincing as a sharp stab of pain shot through her body. She had clearly not healed herself as well as she could have, but then again, she hadn't needed to in a long time.
She had meant to reassure him, but if anything, he seemed more worried. "You've had worse?" He asked, but Hermione didn't respond. There wasn't much she could've said, anyway.
Walburga flouncing down the stairs outside loudly. The girl had been nothing but trouble; she had cursed Hermione the second she had seen her, cackling gleefully.
"Dirty Mudblood!" she had sneered evilly as Hermione fell to the floor rather dramatically. Either the girl was really dense, or Hermione was a better actor than she originally thought. "This is where you belong! You have no right to stand on equal level as us. You belong on the floor, next to our feet." Hermione had felt a wave of pain hit her.
Hermione had caught Abraxas's eyes multiple times during the dinner, but she had shaken her head whenever he had glowered at his brother's girlfriend. It was just a little cursing, nothing Hermione hadn't seen before.
Walburga had also made Riddle hate her even more, if that was possible. Walburga had decided it would be extremely entertaining if she shot a spell while Hermione was serving him. Hermione and Riddle had currently been locked in a staring war when the spell hit her square in the back, causing Hermione to spill hot soup on Riddle's pants.
He was livid. None of the other occupants at the table made a move to help her, some of them even entertained by the show. Hermione had learned two important things from the dinner; one, Abraxas had avoided her eyes the entire time during Riddle's torture, which signaled to Hermione that there was something very fishy going on between him and Riddle.
Two, Walburga's cruciatus curse felt like getting hit with a pillow compared to Riddle's. Nevertheless, neither held a candle to her father's, and she made sure to not scream during either performance. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She saw Riddle's mask break slightly, showing hints of amazement that she hadn't emitted a sound, but she scurried away before he could do anything else to her.
Riddle himself was a puzzle, and a dark one at that. Hermione rarely feared anyone other than her father. She had never feared any of the Malfoys; sure, disgust at some times, but never fear. Nothing the Malfoys could do to her threatened or frightened her in any way. Her father had already done it all.
Riddle, though, might've broken Hermione's one person fear list. His face was always blank, never showing any emotions. He was no doubt handsome, as Lavender had constantly reminded her, and polite to the Malfoys and Walburga. However, Hermione had seen his true face, his scowl, his darkening glare. They weren't pretty. He was a two faced monster.
"Abraxas," Hermione said, and Abraxas looked at her, his face still full of regret. It was rather ironic that she had been the one who was hurt, yet she was the one comforting him. "Tell me about Riddle."
Abraxas sighed, raking a hand through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. "There's nothing really I can tell you about Tom." He said. "I've told you a lot about him already. Whatever you see is pretty much whatever you'll ever get of him."
Hermione stared at him. "So he's a prick." Grindelwald would be appalled about her small vocabulary, but she didn't care enough to learn bigger words just to insult someone else.
Abraxas looked away, and only shrugged. "You never know. People hold lots of surprises," He said hollowly, but Hermione noticed that he didn't deny what she said.
"Why do you even bother—" She never got to finish her sentence, as she heard footsteps pounding down the hallway towards Abraxas's room. Hermione glanced quickly at the clock; it was twelve. Why would anyone be visiting Abraxas at midnight? One glance at him informed Hermione that he didn't know either. Abraxas's eyes grew to the size of saucers and he stood up quickly, Hermione following the suit. His breathing had gotten increasingly faster, Hermione noted, as if he had just run a marathon.
"It's just Gabriel going to meet Walburga," he said, but he sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than her, but he didn't even need to bother. Neither of them believed it. If that had been the case, there would've been no need for Gabriel to come anywhere near Abraxas's room. He quickly opened his closet, and gestured for her to get in. "Hurry up!" he hissed at her when she looked at him hesitantly. "You don't have much time!"
Hermione got in without another word, and Abraxas quickly shut the door, placing a couple of locking spells on the closet. Just her luck, she was trapped. Maybe this was his plan the entire time; to pretend to be her friend and get her to lower her guard, and then trap her. If she ever got out of there alive, she was going to be more cautious. Her father would be livid if he heard about this.
Abraxas crossed the room in large strides as someone knocked on the door. Hermione could hear him open the door and said cautiously, "Hello, Tom,"
The devil himself.
"Abraxas," came Tom's smooth voice. "May I come in?"
She would just have to stay in the closet and try to stay quiet. That would prove to be difficult, as Riddle seemed to be quite perspective of his surroundings. One simple small noise could tick him off, but they had no choice. Abraxas seemed to come to the same conclusion as well, as he muttered, "Come in. Make yourself at home."
Tom strode in leisurely, and Abraxas shut the door quietly. There was no crack between the closet doors, so Hermione could do nothing, but rely on her sense of hearing.
She heard the scraping of chairs. Hermione held her breath as Riddle sat down in the chair closest to closet. It was as though he knew she was in there.
Did he?
"So Abraxas," Riddle drawled slowly. "I have something I need to talk to you about."
To Be Continued…
