Shadows of Light

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: The house elves tell me I still own nothing the irritating little...

Be not afeard: the isle is full of noises,

Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.

Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments

Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,

That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep,

Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,

The clouds methought would open and show riches

Ready to drop upon me; that,

when I wak'd I cried to dream again.

The Tempest (3.2.96-104)

After an exaggeratedly long time Hermione looked up reluctantly from her work. She was so very tired. It seemed as if she never got enough sleep these days. There was far too much to do and so little time to do it. Riddle still sat as silently as the grave across form her. He was leaning back in his chair, which he had turned toward the nearest window, seemingly lost in thought. He spun his wand in his free hand that was not draped over the back of his chair, much in the same way that Hermione had long associated with drummers of her time. He seemed almost bored, as if the books on the table in front of him could not longer hold his attention. Hermione was once again struck my his unnatural beauty. It was obvious that he didn't even try, but everything about him was practically screaming of grace and confidence. The coming twilight's gentle orange glow reflected off his black hair, loosely falling into his eyes which reflected the window's image back almost perfectly.

She stretched shortly, looking back down at the essays she had been pursuing, trying to distract herself from the image before her. This time one of Dumbledore's. She pulled her leather journal closer and read on.

"It has been, in my prolonged studies of the art of connecting with the worlds energies, that not all of these energies seem to manifest themselves in the same manner.

It seems as if the emotions of all living things effect the energies in which we emit. The more toxic the emotion; such as hatred, bitterness, hurt, abandonment, resentment and so on; the more a negative energy begins to manifest..."

Hermione started, now fully awake, her eyes riveted to the page.

"It is in my personal experience that these energies are what power such spells that are widely known as being Dark Magic. It is necessary for the welder to have such strong toxic emotions in order to wield this type of energy effectively; i.e. the unforgivable curses. Much in the same way in which all good and healing magic feeds on our emotions and willingness to save or aid.

However, to use such magic is to take such energies into ones self and truly draining spells begin to leave a mark either for good or for ill. The more in which a wielder seems to use good energies the more it seems to heal them. In balance the more negative energy's are wielded, the more it eats away from the caster.

All things demand balance and I have found that such philosophy is highly pronounced when observed within these practices."

Hermione starred at the passage, her mind a whirlwind of questions and explanations. Of course! It was so obvious yet so easily over looked.

As her mind began to contemplate the implications of her discovery, a sensation unlike any she had ever experienced before ripped her concentration away. It was as if scales of impossibly hot fire were moving a crossed her skin in obvious curiosity, singing with the same tender melody of the earth. While the touch was clearly done out of unconscious inquiry, the mix of that energy with her own created a wave of unimaginable pleasure and desire to rush through her. Her body shuddered in pleasure and she gasped involuntarily, making her eyes snap up to meet Riddles dark gaze. His surprise almost perfectly concealed, but still there.

They starred at each other for a moment, and she felt his energy gently slither away from her. After a time he slowly inclined his head to her and then turned his gaze back to the window as if nothing had happened.

She felt her heart rate come back down. What on earth was he doing? Honestly, what a strange thing to do out of boredom... although such a thing really shouldn't surprise her.

'Two can play that game' she thought defiantly to herself.

Taking a very quiet breath so as not to draw attention to herself, she pulled on her own energy and as she looked down at her book, going back to taking notes, she saw in her minds eye as it took on the expected form of a wolf, seemingly glittering like crystal, a mist of a new morning shimmering around it. She willed it toward him, her intentions at the fore-front of her mind.

She saw out of the corner of her eye as it rubbed from tip of its nose all the way to the end of its tall before dissipating. Hermione saw Riddle shudder, jerk, then go ridged, his eyes widening in shock.

He snapped his gaze to her, but she kept her attention on her work. However, unable to keep the gentle smile away as it spread across her features.

The unbidden childish thought danced through her mind: 'you started it...'

Placing her bag down on the ground next to her sofa, Hermione sighed. Her encounter with Riddle still running as if on endless repeat through her mind. What was it about her energy and his that reacted so?

But even as she asked the question she felt as if she already knew at least part of the answer.

She was attracted to him, she could no longer escape that fact, although she had not been denying that as as much as simply not openly acknowledge it. To acknowledge such a thing could mean that she would have to think of what it meant... the repercussions.

She knew, at least, that something of her energy effected him as well, she just wasn't quite sure if it was merely her own inner interest reflected on to him through her power's manifestation. The whole thing was complicated at best and as she sat down on her sofa, her mind felt nothing but a complete mess to her.

So many questions with seemingly no answers in sight.

Hermione gazed into the warm fire before her, her mind seeming to settle as she reached out to pet Faust who had landed next to her one the sofa. One thing was absolutely certain, there was no turning back now. She had never backed down from anything and her feelings were no exception. She would just have to see where this was going to lead her.

Somehow she had managed to completely separate in her mind the person that Riddle was now, compared to the person that he would become or could become at least. She wanted more than anything to believe that the man could be saved before he became the monster that she would come to know in her time. He was still human now and that was more than she could ever hope for.

"If only I can get through to him.. maybe show him that there is another way..." she mused as she looked down at Faust. "Harry once said he had never known love.. or friendship..."

The thought saddened her... that anyone could live there whole life and never know the comfort of having friends who would forgive them of there faults... to make them stronger with there love.

"But how can I even begin to become friends with someone who really has never even experienced such a thing..." Faust's golden eyes gazed back at her silently and the answer swam through her mind as if it had been there all along. "Kindness... even in the face of his faults and his transgressions..."

But the real question was could that be enough to pull him back from the darkness that he was flung into at the very beginning of his life. She figured that she would just have to try and see.

She stopped moving as her mind flew back to there encounter, completely unaware of Faust's affronted look when she stopped stroking him.

She closed her eyes and just for a moment she could feel in beautiful detail the scales as they moved over her skin. Scorching... trying to find out who she was... what she was capable of doing, not realizing that the emotions and sensations caused by the contact were more than intimate. Fire and earth, both such powerful elements and capable of great violence.

She longed to feel that again, the feel of his energy on her skin. Longed for it just as she might long for the warmth and comfort of home.

Faust's hostel hoot pulled her out of her thoughts enough to hear the frantic beating of small wings in front of her. She opened her eyes seeing a tiny minute owl doing loops around the coffee table. It dropped a envelope and zoomed out of the open window at a dangerous angle.

Strange, she thought, a letter at this time of night. But one look at the hand writing told her everything that she needed to know. It was Dumbledore.

Ignoring the hooting rant that Faust was having at her side, she opened the envelope and pulled out the rather short letter.

Miss Granger,

I humbly request that you make an appearance at a small extra class that I will be hosting tomorrow evening to help with an advanced demonstration on the theory that I have been instructing you on. Do not fret, you will be more than ready.

This is going to be an after classes event for my transfiguration students to attend so all years may be present.

Most sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Hermione got up from the sofa and patted Faust on the head before heading back into her rooms. She was going to have to go to bed early if she was going to have enough time during the day tomorrow to finish the last of her papers before she had to go to his class. Christmas break was coming soon and she knew that her amount of grading would go up considerably before the end of the term tests. She wanted to get up to date before she got swamped again.

She ran a warm bath, pulling her hair up into a loose bun. With her mind in such turmoil she could really use the relaxing feel of the water, the smell of her vanilla soap and bubbles. She undressed slowly, letting the act feel as if she was pulling off all the stress of her day, and slipped into the warm water. Resting her head back she closed her eyes slowly and inhaled the relaxing scents. She would rest her eyes just for a moment... then she would get out and clime into bed...

She was dreaming... at least she knew she had to be, she never remembered going into the forest. The smell of the turning leaves filled her senses and she felt as if she were wandering through the trees even though she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet. The moon was piercing through the trees, turning silver at her feet. The harder she looked the more images started to materialize before her. Wolves so pale she could almost see through them, were running through the trees all around her. They seemed so real yet she knew as she watched them pass that they were more than they seemed.

The wind that had been softly calling to her before started to change... she took in a breath of crisp air and let her mind open. Whispers... voices.. so silent that they were nearly impossible to hear started to fill her mind. She could make out a few of them the longer she listened.. voices of her past and voices of her present all speaking together. All at seemingly different paces. She opened her eyes and the wolves brought with them images... she watched her past unfold before her eyes, moving backwards as if unraveling. The sight unnerved her and she squeezed her eyes shut again, opening them slowly only to find herself gazing into the eyes of a beautiful pale wolf standing at eye level with her. Its eyes were the hypnotic gold of time... somehow she felt like she know this wolf already... as if they had met before...

A voice rose out of the symphony of whispers but Hermione was still unable to make out any of what it said. The scene before her shifted again and she found herself in a different forest entirely. She felt as if she should be scared or worried... The sounds of a heated battle danced along the edges of her senses and she turned to see the image of Riddle standing next to her. He was older, an adult, but seemingly timeless in the same breath. His haunting beauty was as visible as ever even tho his posture was hostel... defensive...

"GO! We don't have much time!"

"I can't leave you Tom!"

"Yes you can... and you must... too much is at stake... I can handle things here. Please, Hermione, go!"

She spun, not in any control of her actions, and fled deeper into the forest, a new determination filling her mind. There was fear there.. not for him... no... fear for those who were going to face him.

She ran through the forest with an assuredness that could have only come from knowing its layout as she knew the very back of her hand.

Hermione could hear as she passed another tree, Riddles velvet voice as he confronted those who were after them.

"You made a grave laps in judgement coming here... and I'm disinclined to grant you any mercy."

"Our orders are set, you can't stand up to all of us Slytherin..."

"Were those the same words you used to calm the children you slaughtered? Perhaps we will sing for there memory. It will be a nice gesture... don't you think? Come. Face this powerless half blood..."

The ground trembled beneath her feet and she heard the hypnotic sound of Riddles voice as he sung a child's melody tauntingly. What would have been so beautiful to her ears was tainted by the agonized screams of there pursuers... he was burning them alive one by one... making the others watch... all the while his song never stopped never changed, never betrayed even the slightest bit of emotion from him...

The forest beneath her feet and all around her evaporated in an icy mist. She starred once again into those golden timeless eyes... but they were alone hanging in the blackness before her...

She breathed in and felt rather than heard the words the wolf spoke to her.

All things preserved,

with arctic ice made timeless,

and just as it brings balance to the earth

who is life and death of all things

so shall they be unto each other...

Hermione awoke with a start, jerking up from the still warm bath water she last remembered being in. A soft weight swung on her neck that hadn't been there before and she reached her hand up to clasp it. She looked down seeing a good sized claw resting in her hand. A wolfs claw, attached to a leather cord that wound around her neck. She ran her other hand over it but there was no knot, no clasp.

She tried to steady her breathing, but it was no use. What was that? A dream? A vision? She ran a hand over her face as if to wipe away her confusion. A vision. It had to be. There was no other valid explanation...

But why...?

A/N: Never fear my dears I will not abandon this (what will eventually be) a multiple book epic, that I have begun to hash out on paper. The more that the story starts to roll, like a terrified squirrel that's lost it's footing on a rather steep hill, the longer it takes me to get all of my ideas completely straight so that I don't get anything wrong or reveal too much too soon. But, alas, there are no trees to stop this decent so I will be seeing it through to the very end.

Dat Tomhermione: Please don't be afraid to point these things out, it's these little details that will make this work worthy of all that I aspire it to be: worth being a noted staple in the Tom/ Hermione fandom. I had indeed noted the issues in the first few chapters and will hopefully be going back this weekend to fix the issue. I am glad you reminded me though, thoughts have a habit of flying away from me sometimes if I don't write them down and I am sadly working without a Beta. My spelling leaves much to be desired at the best of times, let me tell you lol.