Disclaimer: Still not mine, and … *checks wallet and internet bank account* yep, still no additional euros from posting this fic, too. *sighs*
A/N: I want to thank everyone who read, faved, alerted, and reviewed: IceAgeSurvivor123, liv, SpeedDemon315, Rosiline, WeBuildThenWeBreak, Lilipop10122, Merih, ArtemisMoon87, Hatsumomo Smile, vampirelover2009, FA-AL, medusaasaphoenix, patie, ilovesiriusorionblack, pamelawright, GoldenTresses91, Summer Leah, shinobinaraku, tanzainy, RedPhoenix23, Rena Katsueki, ilovenat1995, POM-frenchreader, blindfaithoperadiva, acceptedmisconceptions, BlueSkyHeaven, siddyi,
Liv: well, how about now? *winks* Thanks for liking the story.
Acceptedmisconceptions: I hope you haven't wept two weeks long? *winks* Thank you for the compliments.
Masters of Manipulation: Part Two
Chapter 8
'Vishna?'
'Yes, Mum.' Distracted, the teenage boy looked up from crushing Glumbumbles in his mortar.
'You've made quite a lot of juice already,' his mother said, patting his head approvingly.
He nodded. 'Last year we didn't have enough to protect everyone in the village from the hysteria caused by the Alihotsy leaves. I made extra.' He pointed to the shelf on the wall where an already filled to the rim stone jar stood.
'Good thinking. But can you clear the table and get your brother and his friend now? Dinner is almost ready.'
'Sure.'
He hopped of his stool and carefully lifted the jar he was in the process of filling to the shelf. Next, he waved his wand, securing the remaining Glumbumbles back in their magically sealed bottle. The little furry insects buzzed loudly in protest as their bottle hovered through the air to the cabinet along with his mortar and pestle. Silence ensued when the wood door to the cabinet flew shut upon his casting and Vishna ran outside to get his little brother and friend. He walked around the farm's sheds twice, unable to locate them.
'Sal!' he yelled. 'Mum's got dinner ready! Salazar! Godric!'
Vishna sighed when it remained silent. He scratched his head. Where could they be?
'Pssttt … Vishna,' Sal's voice whispered from an undetermined location.
'Sal?' Vishna asked, looking around confused.
'Are you alone?'
'Yes, where are you?'
'Nobody can see you?' Sal enquired in that same soft conspirator's tone of voice.
'Nobody else is here.'
'I am down here. Beneath the shed. You've got to see this … Merlin, why isn't this working?' Sal mumbled to himself. 'Godric! I can't get your stupid portal to open. I want to show Vishna what we did.'
'Show me what?' Vishna looked down at the ground around the shed's wooden walls but saw no opening or any portals.
'Just flick your wand sideways,' Godric said from afar.
'I am flicking it sideways,' Sal said, annoyed.
'Not to the left, dumbarse.'
'Oh.'
A flash occurred and a dark hole with a spiral stone staircase became visible. Every few steps a candle hung on the wall dimly lighting the path down. Before Vishna had the time to examine it closely, Salazar ran out, grabbed his arm, and dragged him inside fast.
'Quick, before anyone sees,' Salazar said, flashing his wand to the right again.
Nothing happened. Salazar wrinkled his nose and rubbed through his black hair, frustrated before flicking his wand a bit more exaggerated to the right. Still nothing. He growled.
'To the left to close!' Godric shouted in the distance before laughing loudly.
Salazar turned red and flicked his wand to the left, closing the passageway's portal.
'Hurry, it's happening!' Godric added, excited. 'You're going to miss it.'
'What's happening?' Vishna asked.
'Come on, you'll see,' Salazar said enthusiastically, racing down the stone steps in a hurry, not wanting to miss a single moment of it.
Vishna shrugged and followed his little brother curiously. When he reached the end of the stone staircase, there was a dark tunnel he quickly paced through to reach the brightly lit, round, cave-like chamber. Two boys were huddled excitedly around something in the centre.
'Quonk,' it echoed, after which a crack sounded.
Oh no, not again, Vishna thought upon seeing a toad walk away. Quickly, he moved to them and looked over Godric's curly, red hair at the contents of the broken chicken egg.
'Ooooh, look how cute he is,' Salazar said endearingly.
He lifted the four-inch-long Basilisk into the air and hissed against it. The tiny creature curled around his fingers and hissed something back.
'What's it saying?' Godric asked, leaning forward curiously and stroking the little scales softly with his finger.
'It's hungry,' Vishna replied offhandedly. 'Mum is going to kill you for creating another one, Sal. She strictly forbade you to breed any more Basilisks. They stand out too much.'
'But he's so adorable. Look at his little green scales and … he's already got tiny fangs!' Salazar stated, exhilarated.
Godric withdrew his finger immediately.
'It's not poisonous to us yet, stupid.' Salazar giggled, while the Basilisk bit in his finger. 'It's just a baby. It will take weeks before his venom is strong enough to kill humans.'
'And mere weeks before it's so long everyone will spot it a mile away,' Vishna commented, shaking his head.
'I am going to keep it hidden,' Salazar said seriously. 'Oye! Oww! Sharp fangs.' Quickly, he placed the tiny thing in his other hand and shook his bleeding finger.
'Sal, it's really hungry, that's why it's constantly biting you. Didn't you bring food for it?' Vishna asked disapprovingly.
'We have,' Godric answered, because Salazar was sucking on his finger instead. The redhead pointed to a sachet nearby.
Vishna summoned the sachet and ruffled through it.
'When are his eyes going to open?'
'In two weeks,' Salazar replied, stroking the tiny creature's head affectionately again. 'Look it's got the beginning of a plume here.'
'Really?' Godric said, leaning in again. 'Oh, I see it. But it's orange. I thought their plumes were scarlet?'
'It turns scarlet when he becomes an adult,' Vishna explained, pulling out a spider by its leg and holding it toward the Basilisk, explaining in Parseltongue that dinner was here. The creature uncoiled, raised its head, and struck in a flash.
'Whoa!' Godric exclaimed. 'He's fast.'
'Of course, he is. He's such a good Basilisk,' Salazar said proudly, patting its head.
'Now we need to go and have dinner. Mum's waiting for us, if we don't show soon …' Vishna trailed off warningly.
Salazar carefully wrapped the Basilisk in his handkerchief and placed it in his breast pocket. 'There, he'll be warm, comfortable, and out of sight.'
Vishna nodded and moved ahead of them.
'What are you going to name him?' Godric whispered.
'Beedle.'
'Hello Beedle,' Godric said to the little creature in Salazar's pocket, as they moved down the tunnel. 'Welcome to Scotland.'
xXxXx
As Tom Riddle's magnified voice echoed deep into the bowels of the volcano, a humongous body uncoiled and raised its scarlet-plumed head slowly at the disturbance. Blinking his yellow eyes drowsy, Beedle woke from his little nap. Hungry, he smacked his lips together a couple of times before slithering away to find some dinner.
xXxXx
Meanwhile, at another location in Mount Krakatau, Hermione raised an eyebrow at the vampire prince who had a tight hold of her upper arm.
'You are not sacrificing yourself. I won't allow it,' Vishna hissed angrily, tightening his grip.
'What?' Hermione said, puzzled. A mystified frown appeared on her face. 'I have no intention to sacrifice myself, but I think we might want to hear what he has to say.'
'Pffttt,' Vishna sneered, making a dismissive gesture with his free hand. 'Nothing good will come out of his mouth. I say we stay nicely indoors where all the decent folks are.'
A snort escaped her lips when Vishna referred to himself as decent. She glanced at his hand again, warningly this time, causing him to let go.
'As much as I would prefer to stay indoors with the … decent folks,' she said mockingly, folding her arms over each other, 'he might start yelling at the mountain again and I'd rather not torture my eardrums any further. Besides, if I go down there and listen to what he has to say, he might let a few things slip that we can use to our advantage.'
'Well, I don't think it's a good idea to go along with his suggestion to "talk",' Vishna said, taking expert note into speaking the last word rather sarcastically, like he didn't believe Riddle had talking in mind. 'I don't like the fact that this … talking will take place under his terms and in their encampment, especially with the ridiculous demands he thinks he can make under which the meeting is to take place. Such as the oh so convenient whereabouts of this meeting, the you coming alone and unarmed part … HA! If he thinks I am allowing that to happen, he has got another one coming up his ar–'
'Vishna,' Hermione interrupted the prince before he could get any more graphic on the issue. 'I have no intention to go anywhere without my wand, and Tom did give us his word that I could leave afterwards.'
Vishna snorted disparagingly. 'His word, pfffttt … I wouldn't trust a single syllable of his words.'
'I do,' Hermione responded, certain. 'True, he might have a rather unhinged kind of honour about him, but when he is this explicit in stating the terms … Well, he seems to think he has us cornered, doesn't he? It might be prudent to find out how right he is in his assessment. Tom has a tendency to only take into account those aspects of a situation he deems valuable. It's his constant blind spot. Besides, I doubt he will be foolish enough to break his word in front of the Dracul Order. I don't think his alliance with Prince Vlad will hold if he does.'
Vishna grumbled at hearing the mere mention of his archenemy. Still, he grudgingly agreed with Hermione that maybe, just maybe, Vlad had a teensy-weensy, itsy-bitsy, tiny fragment of vampire honour in him that would not take kindly to Riddle acting dishonourable toward her. Hermione smiled at the muttering vampire, who was now pacing toward the wall where the weapons hang. She knew Vishna would never freely admit that there was one thing he admired in Vlad: his straightforwardness. With Vlad there never was an angle. He either respected you or he didn't. If he didn't, he would bite your head off; clear and simple.
'Fine, go and listen. But I am coming with you,' Vishna decided in a voice that clearly wasn't taking any objections to the contrary under consideration. 'Might I also suggest that you take a few of our blades with you as well? In case you feel like knocking Riddle's head off in a proper vampire manner.'
'Tempting as that may be, I believe my motives would be rather conspicuous if I carry one of those oversized blades along with me, wouldn't you agree?'
'So what,' Vishna shrugged, 'let him notice. Maybe then he'll get the message.'
Hermione frowned when Vishna strapped two of the largest blades on his back, muttering something about getting it greased today. No doubt he had Vlad's head in mind. Only, he wasn't finished there. He picked up several of the smaller daggers and tossed them through the air, measuring their worth, before finally deciding on pocketing four of them.
'You better watch out or the weight is going to pull you down,' Hermione said dryly when Vishna began scouting the staffs.
'One can never be prepared enough,' he replied, holding out one of the toss-and-turn knives with the smaller grip to Hermione, while swooping a red staff through the air and deciding it wasn't adequately balanced.
'I'm good, thank you.' She showed him the one hidden underneath her shirt, tucked into her trousers' waistband.
'Sneaky, Granger,' Vishna said approvingly, deciding the yellow staff was just perfect. 'But you can always use seconds.'
Shaking her head, Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. She wasn't particularly fond of the toss-and-turn knives. You simply throw them at your target and if you hit them, they automatically turn ninety degrees, making quite a mess of your enemy. What was even worse was that the only way to remove them from someone beheld completing the turn to a full circle, ensuring the thorough and utter incapacitation of your attacker and most likely their death. Hermione felt the knives were vile pieces of weaponry. She had used them in defence once before, but only as a last resort.
'There are vampires out there,' Vishna responded to her no-shaking head.
'You don't say,' she said ironically.
'What I mean is: There is going to be more than one target where we are heading. Once you throw that knife it's gone.'
Hermione swiftly pulled the knife and tossed it into the wooden pillar. It cracked the wood on impact and made its designed turn of ninety degrees. To Vishna's surprise, it didn't stop there. It kept on going until it made the full three-hundred-sixty degrees turn, after which it flew back into her waiting hand.
'It's charmed to return to me,' she replied matter-of-factly.
'Neat.'
'I could easily charm yours,' she offered.
Vishna seemed utterly tempted, but eventually decided against it. 'No, it's not done to use magic in vampire combat.'
'Leaving your wand at home, then?' Hermione countered mockingly.
'Of course not, Riddle is also there.' He demonstratively patted on his left pocket, which contained his wand, before choosing another staff on his left and stalking to the door.
Hermione looked with some concern at his back. She had made the comment in jest, because she knew Vlad was a magical vampire, too. The thought of Vishna taking on Riddle, however, did not strike her as a sound idea. Even though Vishna was an exceptional warrior when it came down to hand-to-hand combat, and he could surely best any other magical vampire with his wand, she would never recommend him fighting with magic against any wizard: least of all one with the skill of Tom Riddle. She had warned Vishna over and over again that he needed to practise magic as he did his other routines, but he'd always shrugged and stated that he was fine. Hermione disagreed firmly with him on this. She felt his magical skills were relatively mediocre, to put it mildly, and that was mainly due to centuries of underusing them.
'Vishna,' she said, running after him. 'We are going there to talk, remember? Not to start a fight.'
'I have no problem with talking or listening, but if they so much as move …' he threatened, making a slashing motion with one of the knives that he retrieved from his pocket at lightning speed.
'No,' Hermione decided, putting her hands in her side stubbornly. 'No, we are absolutely not going to draw our weapons at the first measly hint of trouble. We,' –she bossily held up her hand when Vishna was about to interrupt– 'we are going to go there, keep our wands and whatever else you've got stuffed in your pockets out of sight, and take a good look around. I want to know what and whom Tom brought along with him. If we're lucky, he is in one of his chatty moods, which considering the circumstances wouldn't surprise me one bit.'
'I wouldn't consider having to listen to one of Riddle's rants lucky,' Vishna said, pulling a disgusted face.
Hermione snickered. 'It is when he is spilling the beans on his plans.'
'He is not that stupid.'
'Yes, he is.'
'No way,' Vishna countered disbelievingly. 'Besides, even if he is, it is not like his reasons for being here are a mystery. He's after you.'
'Hmmm…'
'You disagree with me on that?' Vishna asked, laughing. 'Come on, Hermione, trust an old man to be able to tell. This is one of those for certain things. Hell, I'll bet my throne on it.'
He pointed to the golden chair on the elevation as they entered the Central Hall. Two guards were now stationed next to the doors that led to the vault. Hermione recognised Mika, but she had never seen the other one before. Another new face. She frowned briefly. In the past she'd only seen one addition to the Vasuki security ranks. Vishna was pretty picky about who he allowed in. It unsettled her to see an eleventh vampire she didn't know taking up such a key position. Were these new vampires or immigrants from other clans? Why was Vishna suddenly expending his forces – planning some kind of warfare?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the prince's casually put remark to Mika, and she filed her questions away for later, focusing on the issue at hand. Really, Tom Riddle was enough of a problem, she didn't need any more.
'We're going off to that meeting you no doubt heard about.'
'It was hard to miss,' Mika replied, grinning. 'Any special security measures you want to set in place?'
'No, just the usual. I sent Fylandro to Isle Four, so if push comes to shove you know where to find him.'
Mika nodded seriously.
'Fylandro?' Hermione asked, concerned. 'There is no need to bring out your second-in-command for a "talk".' Narrowing her eyes at him, she made little quotation marks in the air with her fingers.
'Just making certain everything is taken care of,' Vishna responded lightly, flinging his arms around Hermione. His overly casual tone made her extremely suspicious of his motives for wanting to go with her. 'Ready or not, here we come.'
Crack.
They Apparated outside the dome of lava into an encampment that was obviously Dracul related. Tepee type tents in all sorts of bright colours were stationed in a disorderly fashion. The flags of the Dracul Order waved on top of all of them much to Vishna's chagrin. However, before he could relay his annoyance to Hermione about this, an extremely beautiful woman with long, wavy, dark-brown hair approached them. She had the standard pale vampire skin; only hers was flawless, and it made her ebony eyes stand out even more. A dark-red, velvet dress that seemed to belong in another century was flowing ever so elegantly around her, as she strode with the confidence of nobility. Without ever having seen the woman before, Hermione knew this must be the Blood Countess, Elizabeth Bárthory. The vampire every Ministry of Magic in Eastern Europe was trying to kill. She could see it in her eyes. They showed a kind of ruthlessness you don't see often in anyone.
'Elizabeth, how nice to see you again,' Vishna said jovially and rather loudly.
'Vishna,' she responded offhandedly, before addressing Hermione in a much politer manner. 'Mrs. Granger, it's a pleasure to meet you.'
Hermione gave her a courteous nod. 'Miss Bárthory, I presume.'
A delightful smile was extended in her direction. A smile that never reached the woman's eyes, Hermione noted. But the expression on the Countess's face turned an awful lot harsher when she addressed Vishna. 'I don't recall you being invited over, your Highness,' she said, the latter words coming out in a sneer.
'No need for formalities, Betty.'
The eyes of Bárthory darkened considerably at the condescendingly manner in which he talked to her.
Vishna pretended not to notice and continued falsely amicable, 'I believe you of all vampires will understand that this is my home, my territory, and therefore, I have every right to be here. I've got to say I'm surprised you and Prince Vlad failed to follow the proper channels. Usually, you two are the ones insisting on executing the right protocol and keeping up vampire decorum at any cost.'
The insults beneath Vishna's words were obvious to everyone. However, to Hermione's surprise, the Countess didn't start an all out war with Vishna. In itself this was a solid indication that the Countess had not been in agreement with how things were handled.
'This is not a vampire matter,' she stated, shrugging.
Vishna raised his eyebrows and turned a full circle to look at all the Dracul tents demonstratively.
'I can see that,' he said ironically. 'So where is Riddle?'
'You need to leave those here,' replied Bárthory, ignoring his question, while pointing at Vishna's armament.
'Elizabeth, darling,' he smoothly spoke, 'surely you won't be so dishonourable to request another vampire to relinquish his weapons?'
'It is not my request.'
'But you're the one asking it. Besides, we have come here in peace with no intention to use them unless so provoked. Certainly that should be good enough for you.'
Hermione took the liberty to look around the compound while Vishna argued with Bárthory. She had already noticed that he purposely drew Bárthory's attention to himself over and over again to give Hermione the time to observe the vicinity undisturbed. She quickly counted a dozen Tepees. There was one in particular that caught her attention, because at least four vampires were seen walking around it in a would-be casual manner. She made a mental note to remember the location of the weapons tent, before glancing around further and spotting a very familiar vampire: Gerard Capet, the one who came to her house not so long ago. He was talking to a short fellow who wore the ugliest purple hat Hermione had ever seen.
When their eyes met, she gave him a small, courteous nod that wouldn't alert Bárthory. To her surprise, he furrowed his brow in confusion and made a comment to vampire next to him. The purple hat bloke stared at her and shrugged. Stunned, Hermione watched how Capet sent her a polite nod back, one you give to a stranger. He didn't even try to disguise it to her present company. It was as if he couldn't recall meeting her and asking for her help. But he had met her. She remembered it clearly. Still trying to figure out why Capet would pretend otherwise, she noticed the discussion between Vishna and Bárthory had come to an end.
'Very well,' Bárthory said with a deep sigh. 'Keep your bloody blades. It's not like they will do you any good. I've seen your aim.' She snorted. 'It's positively appalling.' Abruptly, she turned around. 'Follow me.'
'I'll show her appalling,' Vishna muttered underneath his breath, while Bárthory paced away.
'Don't be such a baby; she's baiting you on purpose, as you were baiting her.'
Vishna smirked and his expression turned rather smug and triumphant as he patted on his still armed pockets.
'Can you try not to start World War Three while you're at it?' Hermione hissed softly.
'Did you spot anything of interest, yet?' Vishna whispered back incredibly cheerful.
Too cheerful to her liking.
'Weapons tent,' she whispered, motioning unobserved in its direction.
Vishna's smirk grew. 'I daresay that's handy intel. At least if the shit hits the fan we know where we can go to restock our supplies.'
She shook her head in surrender. Why did she even bother? She sincerely hoped Vlad wasn't such a hothead, too, because then this meeting was bound to end explosive.
'You're unbelievable. Why can't you just behave for once?' she whispered, sighing.
Vishna shrugged. 'Now, where is the fun in that, Hermione?' he asked joyously.
The vampire prince hooked his arm in hers and strolled in the direction of Bárthory, who had noticed they hadn't been following and was standing still with her arms crossed in front of her chest, demandingly.
'I hear the Dracul Order is doing Voldemort's bidding again,' Vishna said tauntingly to Elizabeth when they'd caught up with her. 'I had no idea you lot enjoyed obeying a human so much to go for it a third time. I guess I was mistaken. Servants to a human: tsk, tsk, tsk.'
'We were not his servants nor will we ever be,' Bárthory replied resentfully. 'We are merely extending a courtesy.'
'Some courtesy,' Vishna mumbled, nudging Hermione in the side.
But she had already seen the fence and what was behind it. It was not as if the four Norwegian Ridgebacks were small and quiet creatures. They were breathing fire all around in an attempt to destroy the magical fencing that kept them isolated from the rest of the encampment. She exchanged a look with Vishna, a look that conveyed how much their thoughts were alike. He grinned and she couldn't help but smirk back.
'Wait here,' said Bárthory in front of the highest Tepee.
They stood there alone, watching the dragons roar and bellow.
'It would be interesting to see what would happen to this encampment if those wards were to break,' Vishna hinted.
'Nothing to it.' She had already identified the type of wards that had been cast and knew it wouldn't be too difficult for her to release the dragons. It was definitely not Tom's handiwork.
'Really?' Vishna said positively elated, eyeing her in utmost adoration. 'Care to show me?' he added mischievously.
Hermione chuckled. 'Peaceful meeting; learn of plans, remember?'
'Solution there,' Vishna replied, pointing repeatedly behind his cloak into the direction of the four gigantic and extremely aggressive monsters. 'Big dragons. Fry everyone. We cheer. YAY!' he added a la Rose, making a short victorious raise in the air with his fists.
Hermione lowered her head in clear resignation and shook it, groaning tiresomely and slapping her hand before her eyes. 'Why, why do I always feel like I am the only adult around you lot?'
Bárthory stepped back outside and held the canvas doorway open for them. 'Mrs. Granger? After you,' she said with a slight bow of her head, gesturing her inside with her free hand.
Hermione immediately walked past her. Time to get this show on the road.
'No, no, no, ladies first,' Vishna objected to Bárthory behind her.
However, Hermione didn't have time to stand still on the contents of Vishna's and Bárthory's arguments anymore, because the source of all evil came into view, instantaneously drawing all of her attention. Tom Riddle sat rather outstretched and lazily in the corner of a hideous but comfortable looking, red-velvet couch. His left ankle was resting on his right knee and his arms lay outstretched on the armrest and the back of the couch. He displayed the summit of relaxation, not to mention self-assurance, which annoyed the crap out of Hermione.
Amusement flickered through his dark eyes, before he gave her the utmost charming smile to welcome her. 'Nice to see you again, Hermione. I don't believe you've met Prince Vlad of the Dracul Order, yet,' Tom said, introducing her to the vampire on her right.
'A pleasure,' Vlad said smoothly, and he glided towards her to kiss her hand.
Great, just great, more good-looking evil menaces, Hermione thought, disgruntled.
There simply was no other way to describe Prince Vlad. The vampire was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. He reminded her an awful lot of this picture she had once seen in Harry's house of Sirius Black before Azkaban and all the misery: yummy. Shoulder-length, curly dark-brown hair accentuated his light complexion, bringing attention to his light-blue eyes and strong jaw line. A small, brown moustache perfected the balance of his face, while his obviously very expensive clothes flattered his already nicely muscular body even further.
Hermione had often wondered why the authorities had such a problem in apprehending Vlad and Bárthory. Both vampires weren't exactly secretive concerning their whereabouts after all. Now, she was beginning to understand the problem. The two of them definitely lifted the phrase "looks can be deceiving" to a whole new level. There was no doubt in her mind they could charm themselves out of most precarious situations.
His lips brushed the back of her hand.
Correction: all precarious situations.
In order to stop drooling all over the fine vampire before her, Hermione decided to focus on the interior of the tent, since that was like the equivalent of taking an ice-cold shower. The inside could supply someone with a pounding headache due to all the glitter and glamour everywhere. She had to blink several times before her eyes even mildly adjusted to it.
Unsurprisingly, the Tepee was magically enlarged on the inside. It bore a strong resemblance to the Central Hall in Mount Krakatau with all the vampire scenes that were painted on the large canvas cloth that made up the exterior walls – though, the Dracul scenes were far more bloodthirsty and violent than the ones in the Vasuki home base. Still, the glittering chandeliers hovering in midair were practically similar to the ones Vishna had hanging, and they'd both obviously raided every drapery store in the world to obtain all that red velvet.
However, the ugly gold and silver statues standing centre stage in the room were definitely Dracul decoration alone. Every decorative item was shining, sparkling, glimmering and glistening in there. A magpie could fly in and deduce it entered heaven. Hermione felt she would go stark raving mad if she had to stay in this preposterous place for longer than a few minutes. She was duly thankful Vishna didn't have the need to surround himself with all these "sparkles". The thought had not entered her mind or Tom stared at her rather amused.
Surely, he couldn't have found a method of using Legilimency on me again, could he?
His face brightened further, and in response, she narrowed her eyes at him, causing him to avert his gaze and snicker soundlessly to some untold joke. Irritated about the way he seemed to be making fun of her, her mind began to run over all the possible retaliations she could hurtle his way – some were very satisfying to envision, very satisfying indeed.
However, Vlad interrupted her glaring to Riddle by talking over her shoulder to the couple still standing in the doorway. 'In or out, Vishna? Because I got to say, you're creating a very unwelcome draught in here.'
'Here I thought a draft would make you feel right at home, considering all the gaps and chinks in the walls of your castle in Transylvania,' Vishna responded.
He stalked into the room and wandered around it appraisingly, until his eyes fell on one of the statues that resembled Vlad and a smirk became visible on his features as he clapped his hands in mock excitement.
'Oh goody, a new statue of yourself. Didn't have enough of those, yet? Perhaps, you should try using a mirror?'
Vishna laughed exuberantly at his own pun; not noticing that after he'd entered, Bárthory had conveniently taken position in front of the only exit to the place. Hermione did notice, and her eyes flickered around the cloth walls, trying to get a feel of the power of the wards around this chamber in case they needed to make an emergency exit.
'Always the funny one, aren't you, Vishna?'
'Well, some of us bring fun, while others bring …' Vishna halted his speech briefly there, glaring demonstratively into the direction of Tom Riddle, 'unwelcome individuals along with them.'
Nobody responded to his provocative statement. The Vasuki Prince made eye-contact with every single one of them, before shrugging in Hermione's direction at the lack of response and strolling all the way to the other side of the room. He picked up a crystal sculpture of a fairy and pretended to be interested in the design before putting it down and turning around to face Vlad again.
'Turning into an overgrown house-elf again?'
Hermione closed her eyes. So much for peace and quietness.
And indeed, that provocation was met with a response.
'What are you calling me?' Vlad hissed, his hand lingering above his dagger.
'An overgrown house-elf, a measly servant of humans, a stupid, mindless individual who couldn't think straight if the truth was to hit him in the head. No,' –he shook his head– 'that's actually quite crude towards house-elves since they can think straight, but are not allowed to. You and your moronic mind, on the other hand, are the epiphany of idiocy,' Vishna stated.
He was definitely on a roll as he slowly approached Vlad.
'Coming from you that is saying something,' Vlad sneered back. 'Do you even score in the three digits on an IQ test? Because in case you haven't noticed, you are completely surrounded, Vasuki. It would be wise to show some respect to your conquerors.'
Vishna snorted. 'Conquerors? Why don't you try to come in and we'll see who conquers who.'
'Oh, I intend to – personally. It will be my pleasure to dispose of all those worthless half-breeds you keep allowing to breathe valuable air.'
'The only air that's wasted is what's going into your lungs.'
'Then, why don't you try and rescue all that air from me?' Vlad mocked, yanking his shirt open and supplying Vishna with the target of his smooth, muscular, naked chest, daring him to draw his knife.
'And, up comes my dinner,' Vishna commented dryly. Off-handed, he gestured in Tom's direction. 'Why on earth are you allowing that man to call the shots in your Order again? Did you forget how it ended the previous two times around or are you just hoping that the third time will be the proverbial charm?'
The heated exchange between the two princes was watched rather calmly by Tom Riddle. He hadn't moved an inch in his lazy posture and seemed to not care one bit about what was spoken. On the other hand, Bárthory did care. She'd drawn a vampire battle knife and held it ready behind her back, her eyes narrowing at Vishna in anger. But Vlad did not require any assistance from Elizabeth. He drew himself up to his full height and stepped right in front of his Vasuki counterpart.
'As you might recall I have a Vampire Debt that needs to be uphold. We are merely here to render assistance to an old friend; similar to you and that female human.' He gestured to where Hermione was standing.
'A Vampire Debt?' Vishna snorted in mock response. 'You mean the one that you conveniently forgot about for the past fifteen years, and now, I am supposed to buy that as an excuse for you and your entire clan to come rushing over here? Pfftt… don't make me laugh. I know what you and Bárthory are up to, Vlad, and I can tell you right now, the Council will not be amused when they hear about this.'
Vlad's hand rested on the heft of his dagger. 'I think it would be prudent for you, Vasuki, to keep your meddling nose out of Dracul business.'
Vishna took on his covert battle stand. It would only take him a fraction of a second to draw his weapons now. 'I would love to, Vladdy. Only your so called Dracul business will affect us all, and I will not sit by and watch you drag the reputation and standing of vampires even further down the drain.'
Hermione's eyes darted to Bárthory whose tense posture indicated she was ready to strike as well. She stepped towards the two princes and tried to intervene. 'Perhaps we ca–'
Not even noticing the witch's attempt, Vlad continued to speak to Vishna, his face red in anger. 'Maybe you should leave this earth then, since your presence and the company that you deem worthy to associate with are such a disgrace to vampirism, that it insures us to be of even lower standing than some of the vermin that walks on this planet.'
Hermione let out a discrete cough, but Vishna just had to respond. 'Still can't get over the fact that half vampires exist? Grow up.'
'They're an abomination to our race and they should be turned into full vampires the moment that option becomes available to them.'
The two now almost stood nose-to-noses in a match for the title of most threatening vampire alive, and they waited patiently for the other to back away or flinch first. Hermione sighed and scratched her head, considering the option of drawing her wand and blasting them both into unconsciousness. Vampires truly were impossible. She knew it would only be a matter of minutes now before this verbal sparring turned into something a bit more active and she couldn't help but wonder why Tom hadn't intervened yet.
Maybe he enjoyed the argument?
'Some people like being who they are, Vlad. They can't help it that you're an uncertain, self-absorbed prick who can't stand the fact that others can exist in the sun, while you're unable too.'
'That has nothing to do with it. They are weak and pathetic. I've yet to come across one who can actually put up a fight. They are going to lead every Auror and Muggle stake-throwing Buffy wannabe to us.'
Hermione rubbed her forehead. She felt a real headache coming up now and thought she was becoming a bit nauseated. This was not what they came here to do. She'd come here for … She'd come her to do … What did she come here for again? She racked her considerable brain but came up empty.
A talk, something about a talk. But with whom?
A hand suddenly fell upon her right wrist and unusually long fingers clenched around it, supplying her with the answer: Tom Riddle. A familiar sensation flew through her body upon their contact as the two vampires in front of her became blurry and a well-known scent of ambrosia entered her nostrils. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered how his arm sneaked around her waist and pulled her close. The bastard had hexed her in the back. She was certain that had to be the origin of the stupefying daze she was in at the moment. Vishna's furious scream echoed through her mind when Tom spun them on the spot and Disapparated.
Crack.
They Apparated into a barely lit living room area. Heavy curtains were drawn shut and only a few dimmed lamps supplied her with just enough light to make out the furniture. Despite that the world was swirling around her, she still registered she'd never been here before. Still, she was very thankful this place didn't have such bright shiny colours as the one she had just been in. A pounding, stabbing pain occupied her skull right behind her eyes. It was a truly all-consuming sensation. She had this urgent desire to close her eyes, hoping to relieve the pressure. As she followed that desire's lead, she leaned back against the only source of comfort – him. His hand caressed her forehead. It was a really nice feeling. It alleviated some of the pain. The rim of a cup got pressed against her lips.
'Drink,' he ordered in a cool and collected voice, tilting the cup immediately.
The liquid was poured down her throat just before her mind recalled that she really shouldn't be drinking anything he was giving to her. Too late. She'd swallowed it already. Still, she couldn't get herself to fret about it. Everything was off. She felt off. The only right thing about this situation was him.
'It will be over in a moment.'
Tom's voice had turned soft as he whispered the promise in her ear. His speech lingered around her tangibly, wrapping itself around her body comforting, as if his words were touchable, solid, corporeal items in the air.
Good, my head is killing me.
Her legs became weak, muscles trembling like jelly. Tired, she was so tired. His grip tightened, keeping her upright. Gently, he guided her towards the couch and coaxed her carefully to lay down on it. Somewhere in the daze, she noticed how he sat down next to her, keeping her contained between his body and the couch, as his right arm rested lightly on her waist. Soothingly, his fingers stroked through her hair, and a pair of dark eyes was watching her expectantly as she closed hers again. The way he patted her hair was such a comfortable feeling. She really was drowsy and hadn't had much sleep of lately. Perhaps now would be a great opportunity to get some shuteye. She felt too tired.
Suddenly, a calm and thoroughly relaxed feeling washed over her. It replaced all the other sensations as the pain and tiredness evaporated. Invigorated, like she was reborn, Hermione opened her eyes again. She blinked several times in disorientation and tried to push herself up, but Tom's hand came to rest on her shoulder and he held her down firmly.
'Stay down,' he ordered evenly. 'You don't want that headache to return, now do you?'
Hermione looked into a face that was watching her calm and collected. 'What did you do to me?' she hissed, angry.
A small twitch in the corner of his mouth was briefly noticeable. 'Nothing too damaging, dear,' Tom responded smoothly. 'And the side-effects will subside with time.'
Hermione glared at him. 'That's not an answer.'
'Oh, you noticed that,' he said, shrugging amused. 'Well, I can't give away all my secrets, can I? It would take the fun out of the element of surprise. Besides, I love to see how long it will take Miss Know-It-All to figure it out.'
Her temper rose. She had a distinct urge to hex that blasted smirk of his face, but she could tell by the lack of pressure in her pocket that he nicked her wand again. Somehow, she had to find a method to prevent him from doing that in the future. Perhaps she could invent some kind of Tom Riddle Repellent Curse to place on it. Come to think of it, a curse like that would go a long way – just think of everything you could place it on, even yourself. A sigh left her lips when she realised everybody would come knocking on her door for it. She wouldn't get a day's worth of peace after word got around she created something so useful.
'I do have a substantial library at your disposal here in case you can't do it by heart and need to browse,' he added teasingly.
She scowled. 'No doubt filled with all kinds of disgusting Dark Arts Volumes.'
'They do supply a person with the best reading experience,' Tom replied cheerfully.
'If only the experience stuck to reading.'
He snickered. 'So some of those volumes can get a bit more entertaining…'
'A bit,' she muttered, interrupting him. 'Understatement of the year, Riddle.'
'Care to venture a wager as to whether or not you'll be able to manage …' he paused, flicking his wand and catching the book that flew straight in his waiting hand, '… this?'
'Thanks, but no, thank you,' she replied, crossing her arms without even looking at the book's title. She knew perfectly well the real threat that came with reading some of those volumes and she was in no mood to get into that old debate with him again. 'Not in a million years am I taking a bet against you again.'
'Yeah,' he said in mock thought, tossing the book on the table beside him, 'the past shows the odds are not stacked in your favour.'
Hermione ignored the way he smiled at the memory fondly and decided to get to the point.
'Where have you taken me?' she asked, making certain to emphasise on the involuntary manner in which she was brought here.
'Oh … I am so sorry, where are my manners? I forgot you haven't seen my flat before,' he said with a wicked glint in his eyes, gesturing around with his hand as if to show off the place. 'You only broke into my house after all.'
'We're in London?' Hermione deduced questioningly, narrowing her eyes at him.
'Yes, I just figured it would be best if we didn't stick around for the brawl that was about to occur and go somewhere to talk in private. And since I don't entertain much,' Tom halted when Hermione snorted loudly in response to that. 'I was certain we wouldn't be disturbed.'
'I bet,' she said and pushed herself up to a seated position to take a better look around the living room.
This time Tom didn't stop her and his hand came to rest on her left leg when she sat up straight, leaning against the couch's armrest with her back. It somewhat disturbed her that even though they had not actually seen each other's houses, their styles were quite similar: practical, no-nonsense, unpretentious and naturally stuffed with bookcases. Fortunately, Tom had chosen an off-white colour on the wall, while she had a soft yellow paint on it. She discarded the little voice in her head that reminded her of the off-white walls she'd had in her flat in Tokyo. However, she still realised that Tom's living room looked a lot like her place. Well, that is to say, before she blew it up. Perhaps she should consider making a matching pair again? She somewhat snickered at the concept.
'Having fun? Let me guess … I forgot to add matching pillows to the curtains?' he mocked.
Hermione quirked an eyebrow, growing a devious smile on her face. 'Well, now that you mention it …' she giggled. 'But that's not a big oversight. What's worse is the missing throne in the middle of the room and all the other self-glorifying knickknacks. Besides, I am wondering how you can possibly manage without your personal dungeons and all the other necessary items to keep the masses in line,' she taunted.
Tom smirked. 'I got it all stuffed behind the other door.'
Hermione snorted, and their eyes met again. Her stomach made a little somersault and she shook her head to clear the feelings away. She wasn't very successful at it with him being this close and their bond back in full force.
'So …' –she took a deep breath– 'what did you want to discuss that was so important you felt the need to shout at some structure again?'
She was desperately trying to push that damn attraction back underneath the lit it was supposed to stay under. Focusing on his current despicable actions should do it. Right?
Riiiiight.
'I think you already know what I want Hermione,' Tom said intensely, his index finger tracing the skin on her cheek all the way down to her neck before moving up again.
His motion triggered the bond's electrical sensations to dance over her nerves' endings, causing a titillating feeling to travel through her body pleasantly. Ignoring the way her body shuddered lightly and using up all her self-restraint to not lean into his touch, she spoke up quickly as a distraction.
'I doubt Vishna has been foolish enough to hide the bracelet inside Mount Krakatau. You're wasting your time surrounding and attacking that place.'
'Perhaps …' –Tom stared at her for a moment as if debating something with himself– 'however, as important as obtaining Wadjet's bracelet may be, it can wait. I didn't come to Mount Krakatau because of some silly piece of jewellery. I came because you were there and I think you very well realise that. You belong with me, Hermione. Don't think for one moment I'll give up on that.'
'You truly are just … just …'
'Determined?' Tom suggested.
'Not the word I was looking for,' Hermione said.
'Wonderful, cute, exceptionally dashing, smart, hot, just the right man for you,' he said, smirking.
'Nope, still not it; perhaps you should try the other side of the spectrum?' Hermione said teasingly.
Her eyes widened when Tom leaned forward and took a hold of the back of her head.
'How 'bout marvellous kisser,' he whispered softly against her lips.
Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. Next, her eyes darted to the ceiling, and she tilted her head as if she really needed to think about this one. 'Ermmm, well, I don't …'
The rest of her reply got smothered. He had already captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut as they opened their mouths to deepen the kiss and she felt his hand travel up her leg onto her waist, causing a rather delightful reaction to appear inside of her. Her hands were already in his hair, doing a good job at messing up his neat hairdo before she moved them down over his chest to caress his body. Their lips never parted as he pulled her back into a lying position and lowered himself on top of her, while Hermione pulled on his shirt, trying to yank it out of his pants as their kissing quickly turned into something a lot more ferocious and all consuming. His hand sneaked underneath her waistband inside her trousers and Hermione moaned in his mouth when he found that sensitive spot and struck it with his magic. Her mind went deliciously blank as she arched towards him. When Tom broke of the kiss, she opened her eyes again, meeting his. For what seemed like an eternity, they stared at each other heatedly in silence; the latter being rather unusual for the both of them. It was when he broke their eye contact to start trailing kisses down her neck that her mind kicked back into full gear. Coming to her senses, she froze up.
'What the devil …? Tom, stop,' Hermione commanded, grabbing a hold of his forearms.
'Ergmmh, what?' was the rather dumbfounded and distracted response against her neck.
She felt him starting to unbutton her blouse and realised her words were making very little impact on him. With the swiftness and flexibility that came from all those years of vampire combat training, she bent her leg. A precisely aimed kick next caused Tom Riddle to fly through his living room, landing butt first on the floor. Hermione flew of the couch into a standing position and redid her clothes back in order swiftly in order to be presentable again. It wasn't until she was done that she looked back at the person she'd basically launched across the room. Tom was still sitting on the floor. He appeared rather dishevelled and flustered and was glaring at her pretty furiously.
'Couldn't you just say something instead of tossing me around?' he hissed. 'Or did the word no suddenly escape your vocabulary?'
'I did say something, but you seemed to not want to hear me,' Hermione replied equally pissed off.
Tom felt utterly confused. 'You did?' he muttered, racking his brain to remember when that undesired event occurred.
'Oh, sorry,' Hermione said, upon noticing he really had no idea what she was talking about.
He scowled in response to her measly apology.
But she wasn't through talking. 'Anyway, this…' –and she moved her index finger back and forth between the both of them, while Tom was scrambling back to his feet– '…this is never happening again.'
His eyes flashed red. Anxiety flushed her when she realised his wand had made it to his hand.
'You might want to reconsider that ridiculous statement,' Tom said quietly.
Hermione folded her arms over each other and stared back defiantly. 'Nope, don't think I will.'
It took him only a couple of steps to stop right in front of her and push the tip of his wand in her throat. 'I could make you.'
'If that's how you prefer it,' Hermione replied coldly.
'No, but if you keep on making the wrong decisions, I just might have no other alternative,' Tom said menacingly, before barking out the order, 'Marry me.'
Hermione's jaw dropped, and she stared at Riddle in astonishment. 'Wha-what?' she stuttered.
'You will marry me,' Tom ordered, certain.
Hermione blinked several times. A snort was followed by an oppressed chuckle that turned louder and louder, until she had to hold on to her belly from the muscle cramps that came from her outright roar of laughter. She was practically bathing in her own mirth as she staggered backwards into the support of the couch's armrest.
'Laugh all you want,' Tom said coolly, 'it's inevitable. You know I'm right about that.'
'You're delusional if you think I am walking down the aisle with you again after you felt the need to kill all those people and turn into this … this …' –she searched for the right description and found it– '… Voldemort.'
'I had to do something to make certain you would be mine,' Tom replied. It was that plain and simple in his mind.
Hermione gasped. 'Don't you dare,' she hissed. 'Don't you dare pin that on me. You,' –she pricked him in his chest violently– 'had me already, but it's never good enough with you, is it Riddle? You never ever own up to any of your foul actions. It's always someone else's fault. Well, this entire thing was your despicable choice. The amount of planning that went into it …' Her hair flew in her face as she shook her head irritated, while clutching her fists when a much older memory resurfaced. 'Just how long have you been working behind everybody's back to re-obtain control over the UK, hmm? Because all that certainly did not just come about after I returned to live there,' she sneered.
'True, but I did change the schedule a bit,' Tom said casually, as if the witch standing before him didn't strongly resemble a lion about to pounce on its prey. 'Especially, after you started sending out private investigators like Sunny to snoop around my business. I have to admit I got a bit worried you might realise what I was planning, so I upped the timetable.'
'You killed Harry.'
'Funny how you're not mentioning your late husband.'
'Harry is the one who gave you a second chance, but you had to screw it up again, didn't you?'
'It was only a matter of time before Potter's luck was going to run out, Hermione. The odds were never in his favour. Besides, I can't help it if the old dodger rubbed off on him so much,' Tom snarled. 'Though I sincerely doubt Dumbledore would have been so foolish to lend me a hand if he had been there in person. Still, I should probably thank him for instilling his ridiculous morals into Potter, because I remember very clearly you and Weasley were firmly disagreeing with his decision to bring us into this era.'
'Because of this,' Hermione said, waving her arms around exasperated, 'because I had a feeling you would do this again. What's next Tom? Attempting to achieve your perfect magical society by torturing and killing Muggles? Re-establishing that foul Muggle-born Registration Office? Have toadfaces like Umbridge prosecute people like me? Tell me, how are your pure-blooded followers going to feel when you marry a Mudblood?'
'As I tell them to feel,' Tom hissed back.
'You're such a big hypocrite.'
'Am I now? We are bonded, Hermione. My blood and by default the blood of the great Salazar Slytherin runs through you …'
He never got to finish his sentence because Hermione's frustrated growl was a lot louder than his speech.
'It's just a bloody transportation system to deliver food and oxygen around! Argh! I cannot believe I'm even listening to this nonsense again. Just because your father was a prick, doesn't mean you have to go running around like some idiot killing everyone that remotely resembles him. So you had a lousy childhood. Boohoo … Get over it!'
Tom's eyes turned blood red. Furiously, he grabbed a hold of Hermione and shook her. 'You have no idea what you're talking about Granger,' he hissed, 'you and your perfect, little dentist parents in your upscale neighbourhood. Want to try living in an orphanage in the thirties? Especially when you're deviant, which was, I might add, the kindest expression that was used to describe me. Don't kid yourself in thinking it is just my father. Muggles have a tendency to be foul and aggressive to what they do not understand. Just because there are a few exceptions to the rule does not make the majority of them harmless.'
'You are right,' she acknowledged, though her tone of voice showed that her fury hadn't diminished and it hardly sounded like she really considered him right. 'I don't know what it was like for you. I have two loving parents who accept me for what I am. But I had a friend who didn't grow up all that wonderful either. His Muggle guardians mentally and physically abused him. They locked him up in the cupboard underneath the staircase, and they hated everything magical to the core of their very being, while knowing perfectly well that my friend was a wizard. I had to send him food over the summer holidays so he wouldn't starve to death. But Harry didn't turn into this mumbling Muggle-bashing moron, because he …'
'Was an utter fool!' Tom finished, yelling. 'He should have shown those Dursleys who they'd been messing with the moment he was capable of taking them on. But noooo … he had to forgive them, because he understood how hard it had been for her. Pffttt,' Tom spat, making a disparaging gesture with his hand. 'You have no idea how many times I had to listen to him finding excuses for their actions while I was living at Twelve Grimmauld Place.'
'Maybe if you really would have paid attention, you would have realised that those weren't mere excuses. People can do all sorts of …'
'NO!' Tom screamed beside himself. 'No, it is not excusable. No, it is not forgivable. And they are the perfect example as to why Muggles are dangerous to us when we keep allowing them to exert power over our kind. I will make certain that ends soon.'
Hermione threw her hands in the air. 'You're impossible. Nothing gets through to that thick skull of yours. Foul people exist everywhere, whether they are magical or non-magical. Your own wrongdoings are never going to make it right.'
'But it tastes deliciously sweet,' Tom replied vengefully.
'Until it blows up in your face, again,' Hermione responded tiresomely.
'There is no one left to stop me, darling. I got them all in a single blow.'
'I'll stop you.'
Tom looked at her intently, then, shook his head. 'No, you won't,' he replied, certain. 'You love me, just as much as I love you. You may be in denial about that right now, but I know it's true. I can feel it inside of me, due to our bond.'
'Love won't stop me, Tom,' Hermione replied quietly. 'It will enable me to do what needs to be done, because I will not have you ruin this world for my daughter.' The word slipped of her lips before she realised it probably wasn't a good idea to mention Rose around him.
'Speaking of which,' Tom said equally quiet. 'It would be in her best interest if you were to comply with my demands.'
A red gleam became visible in Hermione's eyes. 'I will warn you one last time to leave my daughter out of your despicable schemes,' she responded in an unmistakable threatening tone of voice.
Tom merely picked up a spherical glass paperweight from the table and started tossing it back and forth between his hands. The silence was tense and filled with the suppressed violence on both parties present.
'You'll have until sundown tomorrow evening to come to me freely,' Tom said quietly, looking at the paperweight as if he hadn't seen it before.
'What?' Hermione snapped, narrowing her now thoroughly red eyes at him.
'If you're not there by then, I will crack the security of the volcano myself to come get you. However, I will not be pleased if you waste my time, so I'd like to remind you that all those half vampires and humans inside of Mount Krakatau won't stand a single chance of survival on Bonfire Night. I'm positive that you've seen what I did to the internal wards of that place and you must realise that I'm not making empty threats here. Come to me before then and their lives will be spared,' Tom said matter-of-factly.
'So you are saying that you won't lower the security of Krakatau if I surrender myself to you?' Hermione said suspiciously.
'I'm saying those people you no doubt value will remain protected,' Tom corrected, placing the paperweight back on the table.
'I see,' Hermione said slowly. She had a pretty good idea to what he was really planning to do now.
'We better get going before Vlad throws one of his fits due to our undoubted mistakenly perceived dishonourable absence.'
'Not my problem,' Hermione replied offhandedly.
Tom smirked. 'I suppose not,' he said, holding out his hand.
Hermione did not take it. 'My wand?' she questioned.
'Your wand and any other weapons you've recently began to fancy will automatically be returned to you upon arriving back in Vlad's headquarters. I embedded a Disarmament Charm into the Apparition Protocols.'
'Really?' Hermione asked, eager to discuss that. 'How did you overcome the problems of separating …' she halted when she saw the smug expression on Riddle's face. 'Oh, get over yourself,' she grunted.
'Your hand, Granger,' Tom said, snickering.
Hermione grudgingly slammed her hand in his. He quickly stepped forward and pulled her close by snuggling his wandarm around her waist. She sent him a pitying glance and stated she was sorry to hear he lost his abilities to Apparate them without this proximity.
Tom merely grinned at her cheek. 'There are some ghastly wards set around my flat, Hermione. It would be a shame to lose you in one of those.'
Without waiting for a response, he spun them on the spot, Apparating them to the same place they'd left. Tom held on to Hermione's hand a little longer than necessary before letting her go, and she was very glad to feel her wand had really made it back in her pocket.
'There she is,' Vlad said somewhat relieved upon seeing Tom and Hermione back in his tent, nudging Vishna against the shoulder. 'See Vishna, I told you she would return unharmed.'
'That remains to be seen,' muttered Vishna.
Hermione sent him a reassuring smile, informing him that everything was alright. Apparently, he and Vlad had decided not to kill each other today. When she spotted the extra addition inside the tent, she froze and looked baffled. Sunny was the last one Hermione had expected to see. She glanced sideways to check on Tom's reaction to the white-haired vampire being here, and it was pretty obvious he wasn't at all pleased to see her.
Sunny winked to Hermione. 'Well, I think it is time for me to go. It is good to see you again, Hermione,' Sunny said smiling, pushing herself of the hideous couch. 'See you around, Vlad.'
'As always a pleasure, Sunny,' Vlad responded courteously. 'Don't forget I'll be wanting those back.'
'No problem,' Sunny said, waving a cheerful goodbye to the others. 'I'll take excellent care of them,' she added and patted on the bag she was carrying. A stiff nod was sent to Vishna and the sun-loving vampire was gone, taken it upon herself to use vampire speed in travelling.
'Why the disappearing act?' Vishna asked Tom.
Tom was still staring impassively to the canvas door Sunny had just left through before he turned his attention to the vampire prince.
'Wasn't that obvious?' he asked mockingly. 'It seemed to me you and Vlad wanted some personal time, and I really had matters to discuss with Hermione in private.'
'See,' Vlad pointed out, even more pleased with the situation now, 'that's what I said.'
'Hmmm … What matters would that be?' Vishna enquired.
'I'm certain Hermione can fill you in. We're done with this meeting,' Tom decided coolly.
'Now, wait a second. I'm in charge of the Vasuki Empire. If you have any relevant matters to discuss, you will do so with me or are you so dishonourable …'
Abruptly, Tom swirled around.
Automatically, Hermione's hand fell on her wand.
'What I had to discuss with Hermione is not vampire related, so there is no need for me to share it with you,' Tom stated menacingly. 'Nor do I find your obvious attempts to cause a rift between Prince Vlad and myself a very honourable action on your part. So I suggest you tone your responses down, Vasuki, or I will be more than willing to extend an invitation to a duel to you.'
Hermione jumped in between them in shock when she saw Vishna was about to take Riddle up on the offer.
'It was nice to meet you all,' she said as loud as she could, making certain to drown out anything that might leave Vishna's lips.
Vlad and Riddle shared an amused glance at her blatant prevention of the duel, while Vishna seemed slightly peeved.
'I sincerely hope to see you again, Hermione,' Vlad said, bowing his head slightly to her, while smirking condescendingly to Vishna at the same time.
'Yeah, me too,' Hermione said hurriedly, practically pushing the reluctant Vasuki Prince into the direction of the exit. 'Not now. I've got a better idea,' she hissed to Vishna underneath her breath.
That bit of news made him move. Bárthory held the canvas door open for them and followed them out. The moment they stood outside and the door closed, Hermione looked at Vishna.
'Can you Apparate us into the mountain from this location?' she asked, while showing Vishna that she drew her wand out of her pocket secretively.
'Sure, but …' he halted, frowning at Hermione's warningly expression.
'Perfect, that saves us the walk to the outskirts of this terrain,' Hermione said lightly, smiling at Bárthory who passed by without noticing the wand Hermione held hidden behind her arm.
'Good, that saves me the time to accompany you,' the Countess said simply.
Hermione's cheeks began to hurt from her fake smile and she nodded to the vampire. 'Yes, this way is much easier,' she replied innocently. 'Now!'
Throwing one arm around his neck, the other produced a jet of silver from the tip of her wand that charged into the direction of the warded fence keeping the dragons away from the people in the camp. Vishna grabbed a hold of her waist and spun them on the spot. The last thing Hermione heard from inside the compound was a huge blast that drowned out Bárthory's furious shrieking sounds. From the corner of her eye, she clearly saw the knife that hurtled towards her, illuminated by the fiery background where four angry, fire-blazing dragons stampeded towards the Tepee-like tents. A gasp left her lips as Hermione felt the large-bladed toss-and-turn knife enter her chest.
Crack.
And … they Disapparated away to the security of Mount Krakatau.
