Author's notes: So you think you have this story figured out? Think again.
Warnings: A few bad words, violence, and sprinkles of lime.
Please proceed to read. ^_^
Chapter 8: The "Greater Good"
9:43 PM
The shot was made and Peter was dead. A thin line of smoke was curling out of the barrel of the gun in Draco's hand. His eyes remained shut, fearing the horrific sight in front of him. Was Peter's brains splashed across the wall in front of him? Was he now a killer, too?
Inches away, Tom smirked at the sight. Up until that point, he wasn't too impressed by Tony's recommendation for a new Death Eater. Why would he? The boy had no recognizable talent and seemed a tad too iffy with the grit that came with the lifestyle. He saw him shaking in the corner when he put seven slugs in Bagman the night before. What was Draco expecting for gangsters to do? Have tea parties? There were plenty of things the boy still needed to go through before "getting mark", but possessing the ability to commit murder sure got him closer.
Interestingly, this little event made Tom reminisce about the first time he killed someone. So many years had passed since that faithful day. How old was he? Fifteen? Almost twelve years ago, yet the feeling he had as soon as he did it was fresh in his memory. It was sort of a vertigo experience because it first felt like it happened too slowly and then it would switch to something far more rapid. He felt like the bullet was traveling at five miles an hour until it hit its mark, but when the man fell back, it suddenly felt like he had missed the whole scene. Did he undergo that common process of regret and disgust after he realized what he had just done? No. His heart had been on freeze long before that time. He would actually break out laughing for several minutes. He felt as giddy as a schoolgirl who had just received her first kiss. What a rush it was! Anybody who got in his way could be eliminated from the earth at his will.
Draco still seemed he needed more work before he would reach that level, but at least he was on his way. Tom had always known he could influence people to do what he wanted, be it one way or another.
Five years ago, he had found this mousy little girl crying up a storm in the bathroom at a house party. She obviously didn't belong there. Somebody probably had just invited her to humiliate her further in front of a bigger, more obnoxious crowd. Tom initiated a small conversation with poor Myrtle just for the hell of it, and instantly, he could see that she was love-stricken. Few women could ever resist his charms. When she found out he worked at Borgin & Burkes, she started shopping there every day. At first, this annoyed him greatly, but he soon grew uniquely entertained by her. They'd flirt back and forth every time she came and it did well to lighten up his mood.
It was fun for a while, but it didn't last. Not so much because of her, but just where these little teases took place. Clueless girl at the store was an overused act. He soon thought of another surrounding that would spice things up again. Was she offended when he suggested that she go into exotic dancing? Very much so, yes. But Tom Riddle was smooth. He made stripping sound like the golden opportunity. Now his claims weren't entirely bullshit. She now made more money than somebody at an entry level position at the Ministry. Much more. Her hours weren't too bad either. It didn't take her long to get used to this career path and would soon move over into prostitution as well.
Oh yes, Tom was good. Hermione was proving to be his greatest challenge, but nothing he couldn't handle. It would take some extra work, but she would be worth it. To know someone with so much fire and an unlimited amount potential was refreshing and he wasn't going to let her get away. The ginger that she was seeing would only her hinder her capabilities. Tom could build her up. He had underestimated her value in the past. He knew better now. He was going to do everything in his power to make her his.
11:49 PM
Hermione was sitting by Tom Riddle's door. She'd been sitting out there for over an hour. A light rain started to fall. It was almost like mother earth had felt her pain as her world was falling apart.
After seeing Sirius being shoved away into a police car, she knew she had to do something. This was injustice! Sirius was an innocent man! A tad mischievous, but never had he done anything with malicious intent.
By herself, she could do nothing to the Ministry. If she showed any resistance, she knew she would be shot. Uprisings had occurred in the past, but they were all immediately silenced. Grindelwald invested a great deal in creating his "million man army" as well as the special task force, the Dementors, which were dedicated to protecting the Ministry. Even peaceful protests were struck down with showers of bullets. That was how Hermione lost her mother when she was nine.
The Death Eaters was her only option now. Tom seemed to have a plan and she wanted to hear it. If he had a plan to remove Grindelwald from power, she wanted to be a part of it.
She was so exhausted from this day of never-ending stress, but she wouldn't allow herself to fall asleep. Not until she had a solution. Too bad the man she wanted to speak to was still nowhere to be found. Was he even planning on coming back to his flat at all? She wasn't going to give up just yet. If she had to stay there all night, then so be it. Luckily, that didn't seem to be the case once she saw a familiar pair of heavy black boots coming closer to her.
"Granger, what a pleasant surprise." Tom smiled as he fished out his keys from the pocket of his navy blue jeans. How lovely that his latest interest had come to see him.
Hermione stood up, barely able to feel her sore legs. The concrete floor did nothing to help their blood flow.
"I need to speak with you." She said, almost like an order.
"At this hour? I'm awfully tired. Perhaps this can wait until tomorrow." He played around as if he wasn't intrigued.
"Tom, please!" She pleaded. His name had always irritated him in the past, but to hear her say it with such urgency him yearn. Her eyes screamed desperation. To have her in this vulnerable state and so close to his bed…no, business first.
"Oh, alright. Come on in." He opened his door and allowed her inside.
Hermione hoped now that she was sober, she would find something that would truly shock her, but his place was plain. Too plain. A few things would emphasize his punk lifestyle like a stereo system, a neatly stacked plethora of CDs, and an electric guitar. So far, nothing spectacular. His off-white walls had nothing hanging off them. Just paint.
"Take a seat. Make yourself at home. Just don't throw up on my carpet again." Tom smirked as he closed the door behind him.
Hermione paced over to his overly firm grey couch and took a seat at one of the corners. Tom took off his thick leather jacket before sinking down on the other half. She smelt something on him that was disgustingly familiar. Marijuana, was it? Its distinct scent caused her to speedily reevaluate her latest decision. He never denied that he was involved in "questionable dealings" and now she was given some more proof. Was she making the right decision after all?
"I see what I told you this morning has made some sort of impact on you." Tom said, indifferent as always. "Why else would you show up at my flat so late at night?"
He would turn his head a little more towards her to better analyze her. This girl once filled with resolve was sitting by him in fragments. Her eyes were red. Had she been crying before he showed up? It was evident that she was at her most helpless. Tom had come across many girls like this in the past and had manipulated them with ease to do what he wanted. However, he wasn't really anticipating on Hermione to come to him in this state. He did not want her like this. She would be useless to him without that wild drive that had pushed her every day. He needed to restore that hidden ferocity within her to make her an effective Death Eater. He sat up straighter to show he was serious before he continued.
"This isn't at all unexpected. The truth isn't always kind and easy, which is why humans continually lie. It's part of our nature. With that reasoning, you don't have any more reason to trust me. I honestly don't expect you to." Tom stated with a bizarre amount of ease.
"Then how are we supposed to work together?" Hermione eyed him squarely. Hazel met navy blue once again. That cold, deterring look was all too recognizable. It was unnerving, yet it made her strangely comfortable to see he wasn't putting up much of a ruse to fool her.
"You and I have a common enemy. Grindelwald, Ministry Officials, the police; all those corrupt bastards that maintain this dictatorship. Our ideals don't need to match up point for point for us to team up. The important part is that we have the same goal in mind. We would benefit by helping each other along the way."
"So you expect me to believe your gang, the Death Eaters, plans to take down the Ministry down? How? From what I've seen, crime further rots the city, not help it."
"Again, I reiterate, I don't expect you to believe anything." Tom sighed, but maintained his cool. "But you are seeing the right picture, just not the right message."
"Huh?" Her mind wiped out. Tom looked at her like a wise old man would at his novice pupil. At this stage, she was a blank slate, and he would need to bring her in slowly for her to understand his unorthodox methods.
"Grindelwald has built his entire campaign on strengthening the economy. Every reform he has passed, he claims is for "The Greater Good". They've all caused the working class to forfeit more and more of their rights, but as longs as the economy continued to flourish, there hasn't been enough unrest to start a revolution. It's only until recent times that his precious economy suffered a crack and people are pissed. He knows he's in trouble now. Crime isn't new to us, but now it's worse than ever. Why? Its Grindelwald's way to deal with 'mudbloods'; have them take out their frustrations on each other rather than on the Ministry. And this corrupt system has another purpose. With carefully planned propaganda, he could create fear around the nation, which could allow him to create even more reforms.
"It's terrible, but it helps him maintain is power. However, it is now that he is at his weakest. If things get so out of hand that he loses control, he could be knocked off his high horse with ease because his credibility would be destroyed."
"So the Death Eaters are increasing the crime rate for that purpose?" Hermione could see where this was going. Tom smiled, proud of his latest student.
"Correct. Grindelwald unintentionally created a double-edge sword with his armed forces by allowing them to become corrupt. They don't really care about Grindelwald's ideals. They only care about the power and prestige that comes with the job. You know most of those men come from working class backgrounds, but managed to pass the PET exams? All I have to do is flash some cash, and they let me import 'illicit' goods from the US on a regular basis. That includes all those pirated CDs and DVDs I have in the corner." Tom pointed a finger towards them, causing her to turn to see them. "I'm no saint and I do enjoy that I make big money doing what I do, but my long term objective remains to be removing our evil dictator from power."
Hermione turned back to him, staring at him as if she had never seen him before. For days already, she already suspected he did bad things. What was weird was that it could ultimately lead to something good. Teaming up with him was still a gigantic leap of faith (on the same level as hoping to survive a dive off the tip of the Eiffel Tower). They sat there in silence as she took some time to absorb everything that she had just learned tonight. Did she really want to be a part of this? Counterfeit goods were one thing, but what other illegal commodities was he bringing into the country? That awful smell crept up her nose again. He was probably importing drugs as well.
What a paradox it was hurting some of the working class now because it would be good for them later down the road. Well…retrospectively, Tom's black market goods were pretty much only hurting those who chose to use them. Hermione had known many people, who never held gun, never done drugs, and always went to school to learn. They may not always be happy, but for the most part they were safe. It was mainly other criminals that were hurt. Not that this sat much better with her. To her, all crime was despicable. But in desperate times…
"Could I still get that calculator?" She smiled softly at her small attempt at humor. Tom's grin made her pale cheeks pink up.
"Of course, Miss Granger. Whatever you need, I can get it for you."
Jackpot.
