A/N- This chapter gave me some problems, but I managed to untangle the mess it became! Sometimes this story wants to be more complex than it already is, so I had to tame it. Thank you for your patience with every chapter I post. I always strive to post nice long chapters in between the wait time of updates. So, here's another long one for you to enjoy!

Multiple POV's this chappie!

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Through the Cyclone of The Phoenix

By- RobinTheSlytherin

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Chapter 9

OBLIVIATE

"It is only when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand their true import."

Bram Stoker, Dracula

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"For the last time Mister Malfoy!" Madam Leval exclaimed with exhaustion "We won't know the full extent of your sister's injuries until she wakes! First the mess with Mister Avery and his eyes, and now this!"

"Ursa?" Abraxas narrowed his eyes, following Madam Leval's direction of an isolated bed in the back of the infirmary, screened off from view.

Abraxas sprinted to the bed and pulled aside the curtains to find Ursa Avery unconscious. There were thick bandages over his eyes and a few more over certain areas of his body.

"What in Merlin's name happened to him?" Abraxas whispered, staring down in horror at his housemate.

"Potions explosion." Madam Leval snapped, striding towards Avery's bed to close the curtains, shoving Abraxas aside in the process. "I suppose since the two of you are friends, you should know. The explosion cause both of his eyes to burn out of his head. I've asked Professor Slughorn to brew an Optic Potion to regrow his eyes, but that will take two weeks. Mister Avery has been administered The Draught of Living Death and will be kept under until we can find a way to heal him. The process is painful. However, the circumstances of his injuries leave me suspect."

"Suspect?" Abraxas asked, unable to shake the image of Avery's eyes being burned out of his sockets.

"I've dealt with hundreds of potion explosions over the fifty-three years I've been a Matron of this Hospital Wing." Madam Leval turned, striding back towards Nebulas bed "I know what a potions accident looks like, but this was different. Instead the injuries being distributed in equal variations across the body, Mister Avery had a severe concentration in and around his eyes. The burns in his eyes are deeper that the ones across his body. This tells me very simply that his eyes were damaged minuets before the potion explosion injured the rest of his body."

Abraxas stared at the screen shielding Ursa Avery, in horror.

"Knowing that, this begs the question as to how Mister Avery could have tried to brew a potion while his eyes were literally burning out of his skull?" Madam Leval asked as she tucked in the blankets around his sister's shoulders. "especially since Professor Slughorn tells me Mister Avery is one of his most promising students."

"You think someone attacked Ursa?" Abraxas asked, studying his sisters sleeping face.

"I don't think anything, Mister Malfoy." Madam Leval snapped, checking the status charm around his sister.

Abraxas was quiet as the Matron read the results, muttering to herself.

"You said her body had a history of multiple broken bones." Abraxas ground out through his teeth, he knew his composure was failing him, but he didn't care. "My sister has never had so much as a bruise mare her skin. I tell you, its impossible that your status spell could detect so many fractures and breaks."

"Are you questioning my credentials, Mister Malfoy?" asked Madam Leval dangerously.

"I question how such a thing could happen without anyone knowing. Wouldn't she have been in pain? Don't you think I would have seen?" Abraxas sat back down at Nebulas bedside, practically throwing himself into the chair.

His aristocratic eloquence was slipping as he tried to think of a time he had ever seen his sister in any physical pain.

"I would have noticed." He repeated as if trying to convince himself of his own words.

"Would you?" Madam Leval asked seriously before turning on her heel and walking back towards her quarters "I will admit that both situations regarding your sister and Mister Avery, are suspicious. She should rest Mister Malfoy, and I suggest you do the same."

Abraxas leaned his elbows on his thighs, steepling his fingers under his sharp chin.

"The situation doesn't make sense." He muttered under his breath as Madam Leval took her leave. "Unless the one who attacked Avery, also attacked…"

His sister had been administered Skelogrow, and bruise healing paste for her back and ribs. Abraxas helped Madam Leval apply the Murtlap Essence for the various cuts on Nebula's hands and arms earlier that evening.

His fingers shook with rage as he applied the essence. Someone had attacked his sister, and she tried to fight back.

She shouldn't have had to fight back. He should have protected her.

Her hands were so small. Nebula had always been a small child, even as a baby.

She was quiet and gentle, and never had a bad thing to say about anyone. She was good and pure, qualities that Abraxas would never possess or understand.

He was surprised when their father allowed Nebula to have an albino peacock, after years of pleading. Of course, Abraxas knew his father only allowed such an indulgence because of their mother being sent away.

It was more to keep Nebula quiet, and the only way he knew how to show affection to his daughter.

Abraxas remembered how his sister threw her arms around their father and thanked him profusely.

"She's perfect, father! Thank you!" she said softly. Nebula had a voice equal to her child-like beauty. Her wide grey eyes were clear and held a light that no other Malfoy possessed.

It was the first time Abraxas saw his father swing Nebula into his arms to hold her.

Abraxas never admitted it, but he secretly wished he could show such emotion to their father. But such a thing would never be permitted.

Abraxas cherished Nebula from afar, and seeing her peacock roam the garden warmed his heart.

Never-the-less, he stayed away from his sister and made as little contact as possible. The path Abraxas walked wasn't one he wanted for his sister.

As the next head of the family, Abraxas understood the role he would have to play. He needed to ensure the Malfoy family's survival and keep their prestigious rank and influence in society. He couldn't show any signs of weakness, nor could he allow Nebula to burden what was his to shoulder.

However, Abraxas knew he had failed Nebula in keeping safe and blissfully ignorant. He now understood the Flamel's sibling relationship, and how Harry and Ron could be so protective of their sister.

Abraxas remembered Harry Flamel's words, the first night they arrived at Hogwarts.

"Our sisters are the pride of a pureblood family! The world will see how we regard them, and in turn show them the utmost respect. Treat them as ladies and the world will regard them as queens. Treat them with indifference, and watch the world use them as a footstool."

Those words would haunt him forever.

Abraxas felt like a fool. What had he done in brushing off his sister? And who would dare strike out at a Malfoy?

Whatever the reason, and whoever had done this, would pay dearly.

Abraxas was going to war. He would find out who had harmed Nebula, and when he did, Abraxas vowed to destroy them.

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When Hermione woke, there were two things she knew for certain.

One, it was still dark out. The moonlight shining through her dorm window told her as much.

And two she was not alone.

It wasn't the presence of her Slytherin dorm mates that jolted her upright…

But the weight of someone straddling her hips.

She opened her mouth to scream but was instantly shut by a harsh slap across the cheek.

"I told you the next time you touch me, I would make your skin rot off in your sleep," Tom laughed bitterly "but this works too."

Again, she was slapped, causing her so much pain that her lip split open.

One hand pinned her wrists above her head and the other squeezed her throat.

A fierce giggle of hysteric glee shook out of Tom that made his whole-body shudder. It was then that Hermione realized he was crying…Tom was actually crying.

She could feel the blood throb in her ears. Hermione stared up at Tom who continued to giggle as he cried. His tears landed on her neck, and for one chilling moment Hermione was truly afraid.

"I bet you thought yourself rather clever, leaving me like that." Tom's voice shook whispered in her ear.

He smelled like dried blood, earth, and sweat.

"You broke my ribs…my nose, and cheekbone!" He let out a shout of irrepressible laughter, then leaned down so close they were almost kissing "you're just as evil as I am, with the face of an angel!"

An eerie stillness followed his words, and for a moment he seemed so self-contained. His face transformed itself, as if it were melting with rage. The façade fell, and it seemed his perfect face were collapsing upon itself.

"Everything is ruined!" Toms voice shot out of him like a snake "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! THEY SNAPPED MY WAND! BECAUSE OF YOU, THEY DESTROYED IT!"

Hermione eyes darted towards her sleeping housemates who did not stir.

Silencing charm.

"I was gaining the vampires trust, and you" Tom squeezed her neck tighter "ruined everything!"

"You're deranged… t-to blame it on… me!" Hermione choked out in a voice which faltered so badly, she could barely understand her own words.

The pain became as clear as light.

There was no way Hermione could fight at this angle, her upper body was limited, and Tom was physically stronger than he looked.

But growing up alongside Ron, Fred, and George had taught her a lot.

Or rather, watching Ginny Weasley had taught her a lot.

Hermione knew Tom wasn't bluffing. He'd been pushed too far.

Despite her predicament, one thought repeated itself over and over in her head- 'His wand that would take so many lives, is destroyed!'

Dizziness began to overwhelm her and brought her back to the present. He would kill her if she gave up now.

No, that wasn't a fucking option!

Hermione brought up her left knee against Toms right buttock and pushed up with all her might.

This gave her a small window of opportunity which she took. She laid her left leg down over his right and then pushed up with her right leg and hip.

The shift was instantaneous, and suddenly they flipped. Hermione now straddled Tom, who stared up with a mixture of disbelief, and hatred.

The hand over her wrist loosened during the shift, allowing Hermione free reign.

Tom grabbed her neck with his free hand, so both were now locked around her neck.

She felt dizzy, but had enough strength left to bind him with a flick of her hand.

His hands were bound by invisible ropes above his head. His ankles slammed together, and just like that Tom was completely immobile.

Hermione took pleasure in how the invisible ropes tightened around his body. She could see the outlining of thin marks begin to dig into his skin.

He groaned and threw his dark head back against the headboard.

And then he stilled.

His blood red eyes glistened in the darkness. They held so much hatred, more than Hermione thought any human could.

She was straddling him now and bent low, so that her face was inches from his own. Her long soft curls curtained around Toms face, caressing his ears and neck.

Hermione waved her hand around herself, closing the curtains.

"They broke my wand." Tom breathed helplessly, looking as if his hand had been cut off.

"I know." Hermione said without remorse, her golden eyes hard "And you deserved it… After what you tried to do to Nebula Malfoy… What you've been doing to her."

"Jealous?" Tom shifted his hips, causing a pleasing sensation to squirm between her legs.

"Repulsed." Hermione spat inches from Toms face.

It was at that moment, where Tom seemed most venerable, that Hermione let her guard down.

She felt a dark energy rolling off Tom's skin. He hated her, and yet he couldn't help shifting his hips again.

His red eyes wandered down her long neck, past her clavicles, to her cleavage.

Her thin white gown did little to conceal her nipples poking through.

Toms red eyes flared with hunger as he studied the outline of her breasts.

Hermione had enough and grabbed a fistful of Toms black curls. She yanked back his head so that his eyes were forced to meet hers.

This only seemed to entice him even more.

Just when Hermione felt the urge to rip out a chunk of his perfect hair, Tom stared deeply into her eyes.

So deeply that Hermione couldn't look away.

He let out a small satisfied laugh, and at that moment Hermione felt a surge of magic from Tom.

"Legilimens!" He cast triumphantly, with as much power as he could.

Hermione couldn't move.

She hadn't anticipated that attack.

Hermione never had her mind invaded before, and for the first time she felt very sorry for ever scolding Harry about slacking in his lessons with Snape.

The attack was brutal. It was as if her mind were suddenly pulled into a blender and being hacked to bits.

No! No-no-no! Get out!

The pressure was intense and after a horrifying moment, Hermione realized that Tom Riddle was inside of her mind…

And there wasn't anything she could do about it.

She was overwhelmed by a flood of images and sounds.

When they landed, the scenes were as clear as the present.

They had landed in the first memory.

Jets of blue and silver curses rained against the stone columns where Harry, Ron, and Hermione ducked behind.

They were miles below Gringotts, surrounded by the Gringotts security team.

"We can't just stand here!" Hermione cried, securing her bottomless bag around her waist "whose got an idea?!"

"You're the brilliant one!" Ron shot back at her, pulling Harry closer to his chest.

"I've got something- but its mad!" She shouted, shaking her head.

Hermione dodged a silver curse as she flung out her wand and shouted "REDUCTO!"

The wrought iron railing blasted to pieces.

Ron and Harry gave one another identical looks of shaken disbelief.

Hermione backed up as far as she could before sprinting off the ledge of stone, and onto the back of a pale Ironclad Dragon.

Hermione fought to steer Tom away from the memory, but she was unable to touch him or push him out.

He was mesmerized by the memory and stared at how fearless Hermione was in wonder. She could feel his anger leaving him, and how transfixed he had suddenly become.

He also noticed how very different the trio looked.

They were starved, ragged, and sickly pale. Tom noticed that they're skin did not have a sheen, nor were their eyes gold.

The memory of Ron and Harry also stared in amazement as Hermione fearlessly swung her leg over one of the dragon's spine spikes.

Her black dress was tearing to shreds, and slicing her palms open, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Well come on then!" she hollered impatiently.

A moment later Hermione, Ron, and Harry were flying upward, and broke through the top of Gringotts and flew off towards freedom.

The memory shifted.

They landed outside the Great Hall where music and voices could be heard.

"He's using you Hermione!" shouted Ron, who wore a ghastly burgundy frock.

They were fourteen -years- old and stomping out of the Yule Ball.

"How dare you!" Hermione shouted right back, following behind Ron, wearing a stunning gown of periwinkle blue.

Tom followed her younger self, his red eyes assessing everything he saw, and how very different Hermione looked. She wasn't ugly, yet she looked nothing like the Hermione Flamel he knew.

"and besides- I can take care of myself!"

"Doubt it. He's way too old!" Ron scoffed, shoving his hand in his pockets.

Ron Flamel wore a look of obvious jealousy, and anger which intrigued Tom further.

"WHAT?!" Hermione's younger self practically screamed "Is that what you think?!"

"Yeah, that's what I think!"

"Then you know the solution, don't you?" Hermione sobbed, rushing forward to face Ron who stopped dead in his tracks.

Tom watched Hermione's tears spill over her innocent face. It wasn't a face he recognized, and yet he couldn't look away.

This fourteen-year-old Hermione had a purity he couldn't describe. Her hazel eyes didn't have a haunted look about them, despite how red rimmed and puffy they looked.

"Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does!" Hermione cried, causing her curls to tumble down one by one "And not as a last resort!"

"Get out of my head!" Hermione screamed at Tom, "GET OUT NOW!"

She could hear Toms mocking laughter as the scene shifted again.

"Hermione Jean Granger!"

Toms red eyes widened as a little girl stepped through him, like a ghost.

"Granger?" He whispered, shaking his head.

He looked around the Great Hall. It was the same, yet somehow different.

He noticed Professor Dumbledore sitting in Headmaster Dippet's chair at the head table.

He no longer had auburn hair, but white, long locks that were nearly as long as his silver beard.

Whatever the reason there was only one logical explanation for this…

This was a much older Dumbledore.

This was not a scene from his own time.

This was the future.

Tom's breathing quickened as he turned back to the scene at had.

Little Hermione ascended the steps to where a rickety stool stood. The Sorting Hat was lifted and placed on her head.

Tom saw her knobby knees, her buck teeth, her frizzy curls, and wide smile.

He turned back to look at Hermione Flamel, not bothering to watch the scene unfold.

Hermione Flamel was otherworldly, with indescribable beauty and grace. She was regal without a physical flaw about her. Her hair lay in long curling ringlets at her waist, her eyes were bright and golden, her skin had a sheen to it that reminded Tom of moonlight.

This eleven-year-old Hermione Granger was anything but.

He could see that Hermione Flamel was trying hard to throw him out…but she was panicking, which made invading her mind all the easier.

And then the Sorting Hats voice rang out from behind him.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Thunderous applause followed as little Hermione ran through Toms midsection and skipped towards the scarlett and gold table.

The applause echoed out of existence.

A swirl of color, and the memory disappeared.

Tom couldn't comprehend everything he saw, and yet he knew them to be the truth.

It was night time and the moon shined down on an emaciated figure, in the middle of a forest.

The gaunt figure turned, and Tom knew instantly that it was Hermione.

She was pulling bark off a nearby tree and fell to her knees as she desperately shoved it into her mouth.

Tom took a small horrified step back.

Then without warning Harry peeked out of a worn tent that stood behind her.

The raven-haired boy watched in terrible panic as Hermione began vomiting

Another memory caused Tom and Hermione to land near another forest...the Forbidden Forest.

A younger Harry and Hermione stood side by side at the top of a hill.

Below, a werewolf approached a dark-haired figure in the distance.

The werewolf lifted his claws as if to rip the figure to pieces, when the younger Hermione lifted stepped forward.

Tom watched in horror as she cupped her hands against her mouth and howled.

The wolf stilled and jerked towards her howl.

Tom resisted the urge to run, remembering this was only a memory.

The wolf dropped on all fours and began tearing after them at full force.

The image was terrifying, but not as terrifying as the next memory

Hogwarts in flames.

All manner of dark creature and wizard laid siege to the castle and its students.

Giants tore students apart while they screamed horrendously.

Dementors blanketed the skies.

Curses and explosions hailing down body parts and debris. The school was crumbling.

Tom wanted to scream. This was his home and it was being destroyed! How could this have happened?!

Suddenly, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were running through the courtyard in what could only be described as an apocalypse.

Hermione waved her wand towards a fallen statue and hurled it through the air.

It smashed through twenty or so wizards in black cloaks and silver masks, crushing them horribly.

Hermione seemed mad in the midst of battle.

She defended Ron and Harry ruthlessly, as they ran through the castle.

After a while Tom stopped counting how many she had killed. There were too many. Tom couldn't understand how this could have happened. How could Hogwarts have fallen to such atrocity?!

But Tom understood their roles.

Hermione's brilliance and wand work kept them alive.

Ron's analytical abilities with strategy and muscle made for a formidable figure.

And he finally understood why Harry seemed to have a commanding personality. Despite his small stature and delicate bone structure, he was casually a frightening thing to behold.

Both students, teachers, and Aurors followed his commands as if he were their only hope.

They clung to Harrys instruction for dear life, and even Tom had to admit what an impressive leader he made.

An explosion shook the school. Ravenclaw tower crumbled.

Tom could hear the screams of students still in the tower as it fell. It was a sound he would not easily forget.

The smell of smoke filled the air, and in the distance, Tom could see the Quidditch field was in flames.

The horror didn't stop.

Hogwarts had always been a place of safely…. but this was as if Hell itself had opened up and poured out its unholy terror.

Tom turned to Hermione Flamel, shaking his head.

"How?" He whispered, hating how fragile he sounded "What… happen?"

When Hermione Flamel looked up at Tom, her expression was savage and utterly betrayed.

"You happened!" she screamed as they were pulled into another memory.

Hermione screamed on the floor of Malfoy Manor. She screamed in such a way that might have indicated she was possessed by a demon.

A tall blond man, who resembled Abraxas, brought down a thin razor-like whip across Hermione's back.

Her screams grew louder with every blow.

"You did this!" Hermione Flamel screamed hysterically at Tom.

All at once Hermione felt like she was breaking into pieces. Tom had seen into her mind and there wasn't anything she could do to stop it.

She broke down as if all the different masks she had ever worn were breaking to bits. At that moment she hated Tom more than she had ever hated the Lord Voldemort of her time.

She had deluded herself into thinking she could befriend the boy. She lied to herself repeatedly that redemption was possible.

There was something deep rooted in Tom Riddle that so amount of goodness could remove.

The evil that lived within him was ineradicable.

"How perfect you look Miss Granger!" Lucius's velvety voice laughed, striking her again "Finally, after all these years of being an uppity Mudblood with above average intellect, you found your proper place!"

Another blow.

Another scream.

In the shadows another blonde figure watched on in horror as his father slipped on his Death Eater mask.

Tom shook his head in trepidation and denial.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

He had recently, in secret, crafted masks just like that for Abraxas, Avery, Orion, and Lestarange…

To see this wizard wearing one, could only mean one thing.

Tom wanted to vomit.

"You thought you were so clever- you all did, and look at you now!" Lucius was no longer laughing, his voice bellowed with anger through the mask "My Lord may have taken my wand to use for his glorious purpose, but even now you can see which one of us is truly superior!"

He didn't want to believe it.

My Lord?... No, surely he didn't mean—

"Enough Lucius! Its my turn!" a crazed witch cackled in a baby voice, twirling a black dagger in hand.

Tom turned, wondering if the blond boy in the shadows would come to the rescue, but he remained frozen in wide-eyed horror.

The state of Malfoy Manor had lost its light. The elegance was still there, but it seemed darker- haunted even.

Tom remembered being invited to balls during the summer holidays at Malfoy Manor.

The glitter and majesty of the manor was gone.

The life and noble honor of its occupants had been tarnished.

There was nothing within these marble walls, but pain.

He wondered what Abraxas would have thought at such a sight transpiring to the ancestral home he was so proud of.

The memory of Hermione Granger shrieked again in such a way that forced Tom to clutch his ears to drown them out.

"That sword was meant to be in my vault at Gringotts- how did you get it?" snarled the crazed witch with thick, shining dark hair, long eyelashes and heavily hooded eyes.

She moved to straddled Hermione and spat in her face.

Lucius leaned back against a pillar, watching with twisted amusement.

Despite his noble blood and elegance, he looked haggard and hallowed eyed.

His fine clothes hung off him like an extra skin, and Tom thought he looked more like a prisoner or war than a refined pureblood.

"I d-didn't take anything-please!" Hermione cried terribly "I DIDN'T TAKE ANYTHING!

There was an instantaneous moment where Tom felt the compulsion to curse the crazed witch away from Hermione. He wanted to light the bitch on fire. He wanted to scoop out her eyes with his finger…He wanted to kill every last one of them.

Tom staggered backwards at the thoughts bombarding his mind.

Why were these feelings compelling him to feel this way?

He tried to drive them out of his mind.

But it didn't work. He couldn't shut them out. This was just a memory, and yet there was nothing he could do to stop the drive he felt to protect the girl he tried to kill himself.

It was moments ago that he felt this urge, and yet it seemed like a lifetime ago that he straddled Hermione and slapped her with all his strength.

"No, I don't believe you!" the crazed witch whispered in that horrible baby voice, as she pulled out a sharp dagger.

Hermione's screams were unnatural, and animalistic as her head was jerked to the side.

Tom didn't recognize this Hermione and seeing her in such a position only angered him.

Her heels thumped wildly against the marble floor as the dagger sliced into her arm.

M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D

Tom froze at the sight of the gory word carved into her arm.

He looked up to find Hermione Flamel staring down at the memory of herself being tortured.

Her eyes were filled with revulsion.

"Get out." She whispered to Tom, without turning to him. Her voice was so weak that Tom regretted ever invading her mind…still he couldn't stop himself.

"Please get out."

She hadn't moved, and yet it seemed to Tom that the invisible strings holding her up had broken. And like a pretty puppet, she slumped to her knees.

"Wha—"

"Ah Fenrir!" Lucius called from his pillar "Come in! Bella wanted to apologize for that little outburst earlier- and we've decided to give you a little reward on out Lord Voldemort's behalf! Isn't that right, Bella?"

Voldemort…

Lord Voldemort…

Tom hadn't noticed that he had been stepping back, until he stood shoulder to shoulder with the blond boy, hiding in the shadows.

A hulking half transformed werewolf strode into the ballroom, rubbing his neck.

"Draco, come!" Lucius called his son as he drank down his glass of wine "Its time you understand the true worth of a mudblood and our place in this world."

Beside Tom the blond boy flinched but obeyed his father.

He could see the boy looking between the werewolf and Hermione with dread and panic.

"Father, please—"

"Bella come. Obviously, your tactics aren't working." Lucius laughed, ignoring his son "I think its time we reward Fenrir for his services to us in bringing Potter and his lackies."

"I suppose Greyback can break her first!" Bella smiled down at Hermione, slashing the dagger down to slice open her blouse.

Fenrir…Greyback…why was that name so familiar to Tom?

Hermione was too weak to move, and in a matter of seconds Hermione was naked.

"Get us out of here!" Hermione Flamel cried, clutching the sides of her head "I WANT OUT NOW! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! YOU'VE WON- PLEASE!"

But Tom didn't move.

Hermione was laying facedown with her hands pinned against her lower back.

Blood covered the ballroom floor of Malfoy Manor.

"LET ME OUT!" Hermione begged, her magic flared out causing the connection to distort.

The memory of the werewolf, pried open her legs.

Hermione, still fought, even in her weakened state, but she was no match for the beast.

For what seemed like ages Fenrir pounded into her mercilessly.

Her screams caused Draco to break down and run from the ballroom in terror and self hatred.

Fenrir gabbed Hermione's wrists as she lay face down and pulled them back as he violently fucked her.

Her eyes began to roll into her skull, and after a few more moments of screaming, she fainted.

The memory disappeared, but the image and screams remained with Tom.

As Tom and Hermione landed in another scene Tom noticed how utterly silent Hermione became.

Her golden eyes had glazed over as if she were still reliving the memory of her torture.

Tom wanted to say something. He wanted to break Hermione from her catatonic stupor.

Her ridged muscles and dazed expression startled Tom, and instantly he knew he had gone too far into her mind.

A memory swirled into existence until they were back, in the burning courtyard of Hogwarts.

Hermione slammed the hilt of her dagger into the eye socket of a Death Eater.

She was wild, using blasting curses and hurling giant stones, which were once part of the school.

She smashed the skulls of dark wizards and eviscerated any who stood in her way.

There was a crazed look in her hazel eyes.

She stood back to back with Ron, who was drenched in blood which was not his own. She was exhausted, malnourished, and weak as if she might fall over at any moment.

She stumbled forward, holding her wand out with a shaking hand.

"Don't you fucking dare give up now!" Ron shouted from behind Hermione, grabbing her hand "Show those bastards why you're the most brilliant witch of our age! Fight goddammit!"

And fight Hermione did. Ron's words seemed to be all she needed.

The Order fought off Death Eaters, while monsters devoured children.

Professors were ripped in half by giants.

Werewolves mauled girls.

Dementors sucked the souls of students, who fell like flies around the battlefield.

Tom stared up at the burning Astronomy Tower to see small figures being thrown out by Death Eaters in silver masks.

Tom's masks.

The figures screamed as they fell and landed with a sickening 'THUD!'.

Tom's Deatheaters.

Another scream. Another 'THUD!'.

This was his doing. This was all his fault…

Even though it was nighttime the sky blazed with fiery light from the castle and Quidditch pitch.

Tom wanted to scream, he wanted to stop them, we wanted to fight by Hermione's side against these devils!

Then quite suddenly there fell a deafening silence.

Tom heard a small gasp from Hermione Flamel and turned to find her looking over his shoulder with a frozen expression of utter fear.

Tom slowly turned to find the most horrific wizard he had ever seen…if you could even call him a wizard.

The tall skeletal figure was draped in a black hooded cloak. His skin was waxy, almost opaque in texture, and deathly pale.

He was gaunt to the point of emaciation, his desiccated skin pulled tightly over his bones.

The figures bones pushed out against its skin, his complexion was ash gray, and the wizard's eyes pushed back deep into his sockets. The Dark Wizard looked like a gaunt skeleton recently disinterred from the grave.

His disfigured face held no nose, but instead had two flat slits- like a snake.

The whites of his hallow shaped eyes were red, and his horribly crooked teeth seemed to have been filled to nubs.

His spidery fingers clutched what looked like Dumbledore's wand, and it was pointed at none other than Harry.

Tom understood why Hermione froze in fear. He had never seen someone so monstrous before.

"Its all you've got left!" Harry roared at the monster "I've seen what you'll become otherwise! Please! Can't you understand? Be a man!...Try…"

Tom didn't know why Harry would plead with such a creature.

It filled him with rage that Harry did not immediately take the kill shot.

"Kill it!" Tom urged the memory of Harry "Kill it now!"

It was obvious that THIs creature had caused the carnage. The monster deserved to be flayed alive. It didn't deserve mercy.

"Try for some remorse…" Harry practically cried "I beg you Tom!"

The world seemed to fall out from beneath Tom as Harry cried out his name.

It was as if someone had poured white hot coals into his chest and sewed it back up.

This obscenity truly was his fault. Hermione was right.

His fingers went numb.

His mouth went slack.

Slowly, Tom glanced down at a fallen Death Eaters. He studied the mask with wide- terror filled eyes.

HIS masks…

Tom looked back up and found Harry in tears as he faced down Toms future self.

"For your soul, you can become human again!"

Tom couldn't believe anyone would try and save him at such a lost state. Seeing Harry beg on his behalf shook Toms very core. He felt himself fall to his knees at such a sight. He felt tears pouring down his face. He heard himself crying out like a child, shaking his head.

Voldemort threw back his head and laughed a high pitched decrepit laugh.

"No," Tom shook his head, turning to Hermione "Its not true! It's a lie! I WON'T BECOME THIS!"

The two wizards threw their wands towards one another. From one wand came a red light, and from the other came a deadly green light.

Tom watched as the killing curse rebounded on the dark wizard, hitting him square in the chest.

His chest…

The force from the curse threw back the monster, who fell against the rubble like a rag doll.

The monster was dead.

Tom was dead.

The battle was over.

The Death Eaters apparated away.

And the golden trio huddled against one another around the dead…looking dead themselves.

"He's gone. Its over Mione!" Ron cried kissing Hermione's dirty cheeks.

Hermione stared at Voldemort's corpse in pure horror, shaking her head frantically.

"Its not over…it'll never be over." The memory of Hermione whispered as the memory faded.

Tom finally allowed the connection to break, and as they appeared in Hermione Flamel's bed.

The spell that bound his body with invisible ropes had broke.

Hermione gasped as the bombarding of memories ceased.

Her mind had been raped more brutally than her body ever had.

She fell back against Toms shins, shaking violently, and so close to passing out.

It was that moment that Tom sat up and grabbed her wand from beneath her pillow before she could gather enough strength to lift a finger against him.

He sat up and pointed Hermione Flamel's wand against her temple.

"Obliviate!" Toms voice trembled in a blind panic, shaking nearly as hard as Hermione

And just like that Hermione's golden eyes glazed over as the spell penetrated her already weakened mind.

She fell back against the pillows limply, and lost consciousness.

Tom sat in Hermione's bed for what seemed like ages. He stared down at Hermione as if she were the most precious thing he had ever seen and reached out to touch her hand. He held it in his, staring down at it not wanting to let it go.

Slowly, he pulled up the sleeve of her nightgown. He stared at the jagged scar that marred her forearm and felt as if the world had fallen out from beneath his feet. He felt lost, and numb.

MUDBLOOD

His broken ribs, nose, and cheekbone throbbed painfully, but he didn't pay it any mind.

Tom carefully pulled her sleeve back down but did not immediately move from where he sat.

His wand had been snapped and all Tom had left was a single Phoenix feather in his pocket.

His entire life had changed in a matter of moments, and all Tom could think of was Hermione, and his own death. His obsession with the thought of immortality and death didn't seem as appealing now…

In that single moment, Tom wished that he had never made two horcruxes.

As suddenly as the thought laid upon his heart, something happened. Tom felt an unexpected flair of pain shoot through his body. He cried out as he clutched Hermione's bedsheets. The pain gradually increased

Tom sat back, forcing a fist into his mouth, and bit down hard to keep from crying out.

He stood and left the dorm as fast as he could, leaving Hermione's wand by her bedside table.

He was covered in cold sweat, and his heart pounded in a panic at everything he had just seen.

He ran through the common room and out of the Slytherin Dungeon as fast as he could manage.

Tom wanted to scream from the pain coursing through his body.

Finally, he reached the First-Floor girls toilets and hissed in pausaltongue for The Chamber of Secrets to be opened. Tom threw himself down the dark hole and slid hundreds of feet below the school.

He wanted to cry out in denial about the future he had witnessed through Hermione Flamel's mind.

But there was no doubting the truth he had just seen.

Tom saw what he would become.

Tom saw his own death.

And for the first time, Tom was sorry. He regretted ever making his horcruxes' .

Even as the thought crossed his mind again, Tom screamed in absolute anguish as unspeakable pain ripped at his very soul.

.

{Flashback- December 24, 1899}

Gellert Grindlewald took Albus by the hand and ran through the glittering corridors of Dior Château.

The massive windows poured in sunshine, despite the several feet of snow which lay in perfect untouched layers outside. The sunlight reflected in the white marble and gold leaf ornaments. The Pyrenees Mountains of France surrounded the Château, and it seemed perfect in every way.

It was Christmas Eve, and Albus was able to spend his last holiday away from school with Gellert, much to the blond boy's delight. Nicholas had offered to work with the boys, and guide them under his tutelage, as they were the most promising wizards of their age.

Gelllert Grindelwald pulled Albus into a room filled with golden statues and shut the door with a snap.

'My god, I never knew there was someone as brilliant as me, as talented as me, as powerful as me! Together we are unstoppable', Young Gellert thought as he pushed Albus against a nearby desk and began shoving the fabric of his robes aside 'I would do anything to have him on my side! Such a world order we could create together!'

He stepped in between Albus's legs and pushed the beautiful auburn- haired boy back against the chestnut desk.

'With Flamel's secrets of the Hallows, we can do anything!' Gellert swooped down to capture the boys mouth. 'If only I had all three Hallows! If only I knew Flamel's secrets.'

Albus's blue eyes met those of Gellert's blue and grey ones, as their bodies pressed against one another's in a fleeting moment of pure bliss, and happiness.

{End of flashback}

Gellert Grindelwald held court in an ancient castle, far above the Swiss mountains. It was one of his many hidden 'palaces' around the world.

This one was located within what appeared to be a cave within the side of a foreboding mountain.

Gellert sat among thirty individuals at a giant round stone table.

Power radiated off his guests, each as different as the next.

To Gellert's right was a werewolf by the name of Adolfo.

Adolfo had broad shoulders and wore only a pair of fur trousers which reeked of earth and old blood.

His narrow yellow eyes scanned the hall before flickering back to Gellert.

"I smell the dead." Adolfo growled menacingly, carving claw marks against the edge of the table with his gnarled nails.

"That isn't necessary, my friend." Gellert smiled rising to stand as their last guest strode through the hall.

"Trochar, won't you join us? We've been anticipating your arrival for some time now." Gellert offered the seat to his left politely.

The vampire's black eyes met those of Adolfo, narrowing a fraction.

"Forgive my tardiness, I ran into a bit of trouble last night." Trochar bowed before striding around the table to take a seat.

Trochar passed an Unseelie Fae by the name of Tabitah, who winked seductively at Trochar as he passed.

The Goblin King, Retel, threw the vampire a glare. He was a stout, yet regal figure with gold rings on each calloused finger, and a velvet clothes.

Meanwhile, The Wendigo Alpha stared into open space with a dead vacant expression.

The cannibalistic creature made no motion to acknowledge the vampire, Trochar, but remained utterly silent and still.

Among the other creatures were dark elves, banshees, giants, silver haired Veelas, and various witches and wizards.

Trochar sat to the left of Gellert, while Adolfo continued to growl to his right.

"You say you ran into trouble last night, Lord Trochar?" Gellert asked curiously, standing to pull out the vampire's chair.

"An Angel Orb to be precise." Trochar hissed, obviously uncomfortable about having been momentarily weakened.

He took the seat offered to him, throwing Adolfo a withering look.

Gellert Grindelwald studied the vampires skin which appeared as white and untouched as it always had.

"but surely you would be suffering the side effects?" Gellert commented curiously.

"I'm stronger than I have ever been, thank you." Trochar snapped, folding his long arms over his narrow chest.

Gellert knew there must have been more to the story but dropped the subject.

He turned back to face his guests,

"I have gathered you all today in preparation for an assault on Britain." Gellert stood to circle the table.

"Our efforts have succeeded in taking Bulgaria, Romania, Ukraine, Italy, and now France! Our followers stormed the French Ministry yesterday morning, with little effort. The country is now under our leadership with the Unseelie King as its head. But this is only the beginning. It seems that America's 'First Salem Philanthropic Society' has grown past it borders towards Europe."

Gellert paused seeing a few confused faces.

"More commonly known as the Second Salemers, who have gained popularity from its leader Modesty Barebone." Gellert smiled disparagingly "They've exposed countless wizards, and magical beings of our world. They're no longer just a small group of ragged street children, and they no longer seek to eliminate the few- but ALL of us!"

Gellert beat his chest with his fist passionately.

"The muggles are no longer satisfied with confining us to small areas to live in, like cattle! They want us completely eradicated!" Gellert had everyone's attention now, even the gaunt Wendigo who exposed a row of sharp teeth threateningly

"And what of our world? The laws of our world have us scuttling like rats in the gutter. They must be done away with, along with the governing bodies. The Ministry of France has fallen, and soon the laws that demands that we conceal our true nature. Laws that direct those under its dominion to cower in fear, lest we risk discovery. I ask you, I ask all of you — who does this law protect? Us, or them? It certainly didn't protect the three werewolf cubs The Second Salemers tortured and burned at the stake last week!"

Adolfo flashed his teeth, slamming his fist against the stone table, causing it to crack.

"How could these muggles have found us out?!" Adolfo roared, shaking with fury "The statue of secrecy was created to prevent such knowledge! You propose we eliminate it, but what will become of us when every muggle on earth finds out about our world?!"

The vampire, Trochar, stared down at his white hands, flexing them, then sat up, turning to face the werewolf.

"This society has kept us in submission for so long, that we have forgotten our strength- our power." Trochar spoke in a velvety voice "I know better than anyone the power within blood. I've drank from nearly every creature upon this earth, and I've learned many things…the most important of all, is how very feeble human blood is. Muggles have power because they took it and claimed it as theirs. The wizarding world did the same over the vampires, and every other magical creature they considered to be less than pure."

"And if we want power, we must continue to do what we have been doing all along!" Gellert nodded to the vampire "We must take it and claim it- by force!"

Adolfo stared at the vampire with disdain for a moment longer. He clenched his large fists as he slowly turned to face the blonde middle-aged wizard.

"This doesn't explain how the muggles know of our existence, Grindelwald." Adolfo sneered, flashing his sharp elongated teeth "How could a group of muggles- these 'Second Salemers', know of us?"

Gellert fixed his blue and grey heterochromia eyes on the towering ceiling space, where a dark ash- colored, tendril cloud swirled in the shadows.

He smiled as he fixed his mixed matched eyes on the specter, causing the rest of the table to raise their eyes upwards.

"Hello Credence." Gellert whispered in a deep voiced filled with amusement.

Suddenly a horrible shrieking noise blasted through the hall, causing the foundation of the palace to shake from the force.

The dark tendrils spiraled around the room, engulfing the space like a flock of locus.

The shadow shot towards Gellert, but stopped short, hovering above his blonde head.

The black cloud reformed itself and took on a solid shape.

The shape became a young man with jet black hair, a tattered black frock coat, and an equally tattered wide brimmed hat.

The whites of his eyes were completely black and made the young man appear almost demonic.

The young man sat floating in the air, with one leg crossed over the other, and his sharp chin resting in his hand. His expression was hard and cold.

Even the vacant expression of the cannibalistic Wendigo seemed warmer in comparison to the young man.

"Mr. Graves." The young man acknowledged Gellert in an American accent. "Long time no see."

"I knew you would come." Gellert smiled kindly at the floating man, who did not reciprocate the smile. "Its been too long."

"Not long enough, Mr. Graves." Credence sneered bitterly, turning away from the sixty-year-old wizard.

Credence's American accent was hard and held no room for reconciliation between Gellert and himself.

"Gellert, please." Gellert offered, smiling proudly at how powerful Credence had become. "I haven't been Mr. Graves for nineteen years, now."

Credence ignored Gellert, and turned to face the group gathered, studying the occupants with cold indifference.

"This gathering is important," Credence said quietly, taking Gellert's seat at the table as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I was a victim of the Second Salemers. I know how they think, and I know better than anyone their mission. Which is why I'm here. This world needs a new order…that is the only reason I came, Mr. Graves. This entire, miserable world needs a new world order."

Trochar observed the young man carefully with his vampiric eyes. He studied the threatening tendrils of black cloud around Credence with a frown.

"But I wonder if such a change will preserve and guard my people or if it will annihilate us. Such things must be considered…especially now that we have an Obscurial on our side" Trochar smiled slowly, the tale-tell fangs peeking out from behind his lips. "Or did you not consider how volatile such a dark creature is to the cause, Grindelwald? Or Perhaps you thought us ignorant enough to accept this?"

Credence let out a small laugh.

Gellert smiled patiently as he continued to slowly walk around the table.

"How old would you say Credence is?" Gellert asked "Sixteen? Seventeen?"

All eyes turned to observe Credence, who smiled darkly from beneath his wide brim hat.

"An Obscurial has never, in recorded history of magic, survived past the age of ten. Yet, here Credence sits- at the age of thirty-nine-years-old!"

"How this possible?" The half giant Rolo boomed over the flurry of discussions and voices that rang out in surprise.

The dark cloud that swirled slowly around Credence began to build up, almost protectively and on its own free will.

"The muggle suppressed my magic. Like in ancient times when muggles hunted us, I tried to hide my ability. I had an immense amount of latent magical power, which I was forced to bury. I buried it so far down that it became volatile and lashed out when it felt most threatened. It was a parasitical force, and yet I felt that it wanted to protect me, and my magic…what was left of it." Credence said in a dead sort of tone, throwing a filthy glare at Gellert Grindelwald.

"I allowed myself to be manipulated and used, but not for long. As I allowed my Obscurial form to take over completely, I was attacked by the very community I yearned to be a part of. The American Ministry attacked me. It was then I knew neither world would ever be a place of freedom or acceptance. They bombarded me with spells until the Obscurial seemed to implode. The pain was intense, and I only remember screaming. However, I didn't die. Instead the Obscurial retreated into my magical core and slowly over the years I was able to take on a physical form. It is no longer volatile, but rather instinctive and protective. I can command it, just as easily as I can command my limbs. I am one with it and it is one with me."

Cold amusement rolled off Credence as he glared triumphantly at Gellert, as if he had come out as a victor in an unknown game that was being played. Gellert gave the young man a slight bow, fixing his pale, mixed matched eyes in approval.

"Credence, is just one example of what muggle society, and the magical one has planned for our world. And if we allow one group of muggles to continue this senseless persecution of our people- how many more will we give leave to? A new world order is unavoidable to ensure our survival!"

Around the table creatures, both dark and light, clapped and banged the stone table in solidarity and support. The only two who still seemed dubious was the werewolf Aldofo, and Trochar the vampire who remained as still as a statue.

"There is a quote I'm particularly fond of 'The lion cannot protect himself from traps, and the fox cannot defend himself from wolves. One must therefore be a fox to recognize traps, and a lion to frighten wolves'. If we are to bring about world order and peace, we must become a power that can lead both the muggle and wizarding world." Grindelwald continued passionately, fingering the Elder Wand from within his coat pocket "And for us to become such a power…we will need two items to complete the Hallows."

"The stone and the cloak are lost." Tabitha the Unseelie Fae, sighed dispassionately. "we've searched for them. It is impossible to find such rare items without finding the masters that possess them."

"Or its creator, Nicholas Flamel." Grindelwald said knowingly, missing the sharp look that came from Trochar "However, upon taking control of France, I discovered that Flamel and his wife had fled. To where I do not know, but it is imperative that we find out—"

"Flamel you say?" Trochar halted drumming his waxy pale fingers against the stone table "As in the Alchemist?"

Credence and to the others turned to the vampire expectantly.

"Yes, Lord Trochar?" Gellert stopped in his tracks, his mixed matched blue and grey eye fixed firmly on the vampire. "Is there something you know?"

"The girl told me that it was an alchemist that…" Trochar muttered to himself, running a pale hand through his black hair.

"My Lord Trochar, if you have something—"

"It was an alchemist that threw the angel orb that wounded me and killed off many of my children! It was Nicholas Flamel!" Trochar spat venomously, rising to his feet. Fury filled Trochar's heart as he remembered the screams of his fledglings burning to death. The memory of the pain…and her words.

Her words he so wanted to believe…and after the Blood sacrifice she gave to him.

"Hermione Flamel," Trochar hissed, distraught and enraged beyond comprehension "Last night I met the Alchemist's daughter, Hermione Flamel. She gave me her blood, which replenished me with magic that I had never tasted before. She came to me and offered herself, in exchange for her friends. She convinced me that she was an ally while at the same time knowing her father had thrown the angel Orb and destroyed my children!"

"There must be some mistake, Lord Trochar." Gellert said bowing his head with slight disappointment "the Flamel's have no living child, nor can they produce any children in their immortal forms."

"She had his golden eyes, and her blood was thick with power! She did not look mortal, nor did she speak as they do! How else would I be able to stand before you as healed and whole as I am now!?" Trochar leapt onto the table with inhuman speed.

The vampire fangs flashed and seemed to grow another inch. The whites of his eyes swirled blood red as he narrowed in on Gellert.

"Golden…eyes?" Grindelwald whispered, lifting his head back up to meet the vampires red eyes. The blood in his veins seemed to run cold from shock. "Her eyes were gold?"

"As gold as the hand of Midas." Trochar spat, leaping off the table with unimaginable speed. In a blink of an eye he stood inches from Gellert's face, baring his fangs dangerously "she was his daughter…of that I have no doubt."

"I believe you." Gellert spoke breathlessly, with a predatory smile. He had never felt so grateful to another living creature as he had at that moment. "And where did you say you met this child?"

"the Forbidden Forest, outside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Trochar said with a frightening sort of calm that promised retribution and death. "She's a student as well."

"Then I think it's time I pay Hogwarts a little trip."

"No need." Trochar laughed, pulling out a black stone on a golden chain that sat against his chest. "Not only can Hermione Flame contact me through this pendant, and I her…but I've also activated it as a reverse portkey, so that I can summon her to me anytime I want."

The table broke out into thunderous laughter as Trochar fingered the pendant.

"And at the moment I don't know whether I want to kill her to spite the Alchemist…or make her a child of darkness for my own selfish greed." Trochar continued to laugh "Either way, you get leverage, and I get revenge."

.

A/N- If you enjoyed reading this, or spent hours invested in this fic, please leave a review :D They motivate me and I read every one of then a hundred times!

I appreciate everyone of you who make me feel excited to write and plot!

A friend of mine writes Harlequin Novels and has two of her books made into films by the Hallmark channel. I eventually want to have lunch with her and discuss another project I've been working on. Seeing such encouraging comments really motivates me to continue trying my best and write as much as I can.

I don't know if I have potential to have my own book published, but I will continue to work hard and write!

Thank you for your continued support of this fic my fellow HP peps!

-RobinTheSlytherin-