AN: Um…you know how I described this story as a monster in the first Chapter? I did the math, and sort of plotted out where I wanted it to go (I say sort-of because I tend to plot very loosely). This thing could be massive. I use a formula to figure out how long it will take to finish a story once I have the first bit written, and factor in the twists and additional character arcs. Right now, I'm projecting over 100,000 words. Which is a freakin' novel. That I'm going to write. For free. Because I'm nuts…and the story won't let me go. I just wanted to warn all of you.
Also: My characters say things based on their own backgrounds. I really try to write them so they are their own people and they aren't just spouting things that I would say. Occasionally this leads to a chapter like this.
Tom didn't speak until they entered the empty Slytherin common room. "Malfoy's father thinks he's a poof."
"That's all you managed to get out of that?"
He grinned and it was the slightly manic smile that she'd seen before…the one he didn't show anyone but her. "It means he's not interested in you like that…not at all." Tom flinched when his thoughts strayed. Hermione knew she'd need to act quickly. He wasn't fond of men who liked boys. Malfoy was built like a man. She could tell the comparison made Tom feel uncomfortable.
Hermione frowned. "I don't think that's what it means at all. Well, maybe when it comes to me, but not all girls. I think his mother is looking for a girl who will want the Malfoy fortune enough to marry him anyway, if it is true and it's not just his father being cruel."
"The purebloods use a lot of fidelity charms in their bindings."
"Still? I've read about them, but I assumed the practice had fallen away as times changed. The pureblood girls certainly don't seem prudish…" Hermione wrinkled her nose. She'd been forced to stop using certain secret passages because they were always occupied, by students in green often as not.
Tom nodded, but there was a slightly pink blush across his cheekbones. "That's where I heard it, from a group of fourth year girls. They were laughing about having their fun before the fidelity charms were in place for a betrothal."
"I don't suppose I can blame them. They don't really have much of a choice."
"They have to give their consent for the betrothal."
"Not always. Not really. Their parents can set it up when they are in the cradle. They can be wed as early as fifteen under wizarding law. But Hogwarts doesn't allow married students to attend."
Tom looked stunned. "Really?"
"I don't think so. I came across a reference once that said that students who marry would need to take their NEWTS at the Ministry after private tutoring."
He looked down. "You won't do it." His words were certain, his voice was not.
She looked at him, confused, "Do what?"
"Marry him."
"I'm a second year student Tom. I'm not going to get married for years. And I hope that when I do it will be someone who loves me."
"Malfoy might care for you, eventually. He's very fond of you." Tom's lips sneered as he said that last bit.
She raised a brow. "Why are you pushing this?"
"I'm just wondering."
"Don't. My body isn't something I'll trade for gold. This is why I want my own money. Because once I have it people won't assume that I'm for sale."
Tom looked down, clearly embarrassed, but unwilling to let it go. "Everyone has a price Hermione. Everyone wants something."
"I want lots of things. I want respect and love, and freedom. I want to change things for the better. I want to spend time learning and discovering new things. I want the people I care about to be happy and safe. I never want to be afraid."
"So you want enough money and power to do those things."
"And the right people too. Trust me, that's the important part. When you have magic you can do without a lot and still have a good life, as long as you have the right people in it. But gold makes things easier."
"So even if you never make a philosopher's stone, you wouldn't marry Malfoy."
"I will never marry anyone for their wealth." Then she teased. "Good looks and brilliance…well that's another story!"
He pulled her closer and kissed her lips. She let him, knowing that there was no real fire in those kisses yet. These kisses were still about marking her as 'his' and not in a sexual way. Still, she could feel the difference in his body as he held her close. She might still be child-like in her proportions, but he was growing again. She wouldn't bet that he would get out of second year before he started shaving a bit…probably not every day, but some. She'd have to teach him the hair removal charm she used on her legs. Eventually they settled into simply holding each other and then summoned books. He still had to whisper the incantation, but the spell was fifth year work, so she was still impressed.
Malfoy walked in and found them like that. Tom's head was in her lap, they were both reading. Her fingers were in his hair.
Hermione noticed him as he came through the portrait. The blond sighed. "I want to speak with both of you before the rest of the Slytherins returned…about what my father said."
Tom didn't move his book or his head from Hermione's lap. "As long as you don't involve either of us, I can't imagine it is any of our business Abraxas."
Hermione nudged Tom and he got up with a sigh, making room for the other boy on the couch. She patted the spot where she'd been. "Come and tell us."
Abraxas slid into the warm leather. "I'm not what my father claims. He is…but I am not like that. My father… His father beat him when he found out, and the elves say he was never right after that. He's broken and dangerous. If my mother didn't take care of everything, the family enterprises would be in ruins. He's jealous and angry and enjoys making life difficult for anyone who is around him." His lips tightened into a thin line.
Hermione took his hand. "I'm sorry." It didn't seem like the right thing to say at all. But what do you say to all of that? Malfoy knew his father wasn't good to him, but he knew why, and somehow that almost made it worse.
Malfoy shrugged. "I just didn't want you to get the wrong impression, and I'm sorry about what he said about you…and your hair. Ignore him. He's an unpleasant man who never has a nice thing to say about anyone. If he weren't my father, I'd hex him myself."
Tom raised a brow. "Let me know if you'd like me to do it for you."
Hermione pretended to swat at Tom. Abraxas watched their hands. He pushed away from the couch. "I was waiting until Christmas, but I brought you something." He summoned two large brightly wrapped gifts from his room. Hermione sighed. Abraxas wasn't trying to buy their friendship, per se…but he had a tendency to change the subject using gold. She'd need to steer him away from that tendency as he aged. Perhaps she could help the Malfoys as well. Abraxas would morn if he'd known how low his family sank in the future.
Abraxas, oblivious to her thoughts, put the first gift in Tom's lap. Tom unwrapped it carefully. He pulled out a brand new set of Quidditch gear, all the correct size. The older boy was practically bouncing. "It's all spelled to grow with you so you'll be able to use it through school. Can't have the Quidditch team slacking just because I graduate." Tom smiled at the other boy uncertainly.
Abraxas plopped another gift in Hermione's lap. It was smaller than Tom's gift. She opened it and found a lovely set of dress robes and matching shoes. Malfoy smiled. "My mother helped me pick them out. We bought them before my father made the comment about your hair, so please don't mind the matching combs that are in there somewhere. I promise, they are only there to hold up those glorious locks."
She smiled up at him. "I'd never take offence. Your father's comments weren't the most hurtful things anyone has ever said about my hair."
Malfoy looked affronted. "They clearly don't have a proper appreciation for a riot of curls."
Hermione smiled. "I hope you aren't expecting us to give you our gifts. I sent them via owl to your house because I was afraid you'd never wait for Christmas if I just handed mine to you."
He sighed dramatically, equilibrium obviously restored. The h looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "You are a witch of rare perception."
She laughed. "And a gift for pattern recognition." She and Tom snuck down to the kitchen and brought an armload of snacks and drinks. Malfoy, being Malfoy, went to Hogsmead and bought a barrel of butterbeer. They laughed and played exploding Snap and totally disregarded the rules so everyone was cheating…
It was perhaps, one of the nicest Christmas Eves she'd ever had.
HGHGHGHGHG
Christmas morning arrived. Malfoy had floo'd home late the night before. Hermione wondered briefly if something like the floo wasn't responsible for all those stories of Santa.
She and Tom met in the common room and exchanged small gifts.
He presented her with a plant the size of her fist that produced different types of fruit. The bow was a little haphazard, but it already was full of tiny oranges and pomegranates.
"Tom, this is amazing!"
He blushed. "I've been working on it all semester. Professor Hoppart was impressed when I managed to add more than one type of fruit, but it grows forty-three different varieties, everything from bananas to tomatoes and they pop up at random so you never know what you're going to get from day to day, but they are always ready by suppertime."
She was more touched than he knew. How had she ever considered a hastily wrapped bargain book a thoughtful gift? Because someone (Ron) had finally noticed that she was 'always reading'.
She put the precious plant down and threw her arms around him. "You are the sweetest, most thoughtful boy in the world."
His eyes were wide and he patted her back awkwardly before hugging her back.
He unwrapped her gift, a full set of handy books on transfiguration. She'd copied the ancient tomes in the library and transfigured leather covers for them that could only be opened by their owner. Each book had 'Property of Tom Riddle' engraved in silver inside the first page.
They put away their gifts (Tom nearly hugging his books and Hermione patting her new tree fondly) and they made their way down to breakfast. Several of the children were here this year, but none had made it down to breakfast. In fact, only Dumbledore and Dippett sat at the high table.
Several parcels were dropped at their table during breakfast by overworked-looking owls, upsetting the jam jar and tumbling through Dumbledore's oatmeal. Hermione frowned at the mess even as Dumbledore cleared it up indulgently. He picked up the first gift (obviously a book) and joked with the headmaster as he unwrapped his parcels.
Tom was fully enjoying his breakfast beside her. She worried about the coming summer. If she remembered correctly, the Muggle war would mean rationing, especially in London. Eventually children would be sent out to the countryside. She hoped they were at Hogwarts when that happened. Or if not… she turned her thoughts to alchemy and began to wonder if she shouldn't introduce Tom to the Room of Requirement…
Dumbledore let out a gasp that made her look up. Dippett turned his rather dotty eyes to the wizard. "Whatever is the matter?"
In his hands, a pretty blond doll was enchanted…crying piteously for her mother. The clothing was old fashioned, a pale dress and a pinafore.
Dumbledore looked like he'd seen a ghost. The doll's cries continued to grow louder and louder…
Hermione found herself rushing to the doll and pulling it out of Dumbledore's hands. Up close he looked dreadful, skin almost gray, with a haunted expression she'd never seen on his face. The doll quieted as her hand went around it.
Dumbledore's eyes went wild and he tried to pull the doll away. She put her fingers around his wrist and shook her head slightly.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I…um….must have gotten Miss Granger's gift by mistake."
Dippett nodded in complete incomprehension.
"What a lovely doll for an orphan girl! Whoever sent it to you dear?"
Hermione did not roll her eyes at the question. Only a very long life allowed her to control herself. Did the man not understand that a war was brewing? "I think it might have been from one of Professor Dumbledore's friends. Perhaps that's why the owl made the mistake."
"I do love that he has taken such an interest in you youngsters."
Hermione smiled as Tom made his way to the table. "He's been very kind."
Dippett sighed and turned to Albus. "I do wish you'd settled down with a nice witch and produced a few of your own Dumbledore. It's not too late you know…there's a fine matron that my late wife taught that would be quite happy…"
Dumbledore sighed loudly. "Thank you Sir, but I need to take Miss Granger's doll to my office to write a thank you to my friend. It was quite thoughtful to send it you know…"
"Oh yes, of course. Off with you then. Christmas dinner will be served promptly at two. Be back in time for pudding!"
AN: I'll try to update Monday or Tuesday.