Chapter 14

"Hear, hear. We call to order the first meeting of the Crackpots," Margot Droope announced, clicking her nails against the side of her cup in a rather unnecessary attempt to silence her small audience.

"Of course, the name is subject to change," Marina, her twin, chimed in, pulling down her sleeve nervously. Of the two sisters, Marina was certainly the more skittish.

The Hufflepuff Common Room was unevenly crowded that evening. The girls had not told the rest of the students that they would be "reserving" the sofas by the fireplace and consequently, a couple of angry Fourth Years were glaring at them. The twins pretended not to see them.

"We are ever so glad you could make it," Margot recommenced, rubbing her hands together. "Since this is our first meeting, we want to discuss our objectives and mission. Marina, would you please?"

Her sister stepped up with a thick roll of parchment and started reading in a thin voice.

"Our beloved deceased papa, Langton Droope, made us promise on his deathbed not to forget the purpose of our short lives on Earth, which is to question the world around us. Take nothing for granted. Most of you believe that magic can make all our problems disappear, but it is not so. In fact, magic often enslaves us. Papa said we let it rule us, instead of us ruling it." Here Marina paused for effect and stared at each of them with varying degrees of intensity.

Hermione did not like the grim quality of those dark, expressive eyes. She concentrated on the teacup in her lap instead. She had agreed to attend the "Crackpot" gathering because Marina and Margot had been kind to her during Herbology, but she was beginning to regret her attempt at making friends.

The only other people sitting on the sofa next to her were a First-Year Ravenclaw by the name of Torpina who had come to the meeting with her own copy of Langton Droope's "Magical Creatures, Magical Betrayals" (a rather disturbing title), a Second-Year Gryffindor who, from what Hermione had gathered, desperately needed tutoring in Herbology, and a First-Year Hufflepuff boy who had wandered to their side of the room by accident.

Hermione took a sip of her cold tea. At least she had the privilege of seeing the Hufflepuff Common Room with her own eyes. Many First-Years and even older students yearned to know what it was like in other House quarters. Hermione liked the cozy basement well enough, but there was an abundance of choking plants which she found unsettling. A sizable number of pots were suspended by thin chains from the ceiling. Each pot was overflowing with creepers and hanging vines and pink wisteria. As if that weren't enough, there was an array of luscious aspidistras stacked up against the walls. Their leaves were sharpened to the point of a knife.

Still, she was very lucky to have gained access here. She envied the proximity to the Kitchens.

If she was entirely honest, she also hoped she might run into Madeleine Prewett, the friendly Hufflepuff from the train. Much to her disappointment, there'd been no sign of her so far.

She'd lost track of her thoughts and when she returned to the gathering, Margot was asking her a question.

Hermione flushed. "I'm sorry, could you say that again?"

Margot repeated herself impatiently. "I said, do you agree with the owlery?"

Hermione blinked. The owlery? "Well…yes, I believe the owls must have some place to nest and rest. But I don't own an owl."

Margot nodded in satisfaction. "Very good. We don't keep an owl either. It is rather savage. Then we are all agreed to go down there this evening."

"Go down…where?"

"To the owlery, of course."

Hermione looked to her left and right. Torpina was nodding enthusiastically, clutching her book to her chest, but the Second-Year Gryffindor was checking his watch with some trepidation. No wonder! Why, at this hour, it was dark outside. The Hufflepuff First-Year did not have any input for he had fallen asleep with his chin in the crook of his neck.

"You want to go to the West Tower?" Hermione persisted, thinking she must have got it wrong.

The twins both crossed their arms, but it was Marina who spoke in a spindly voice. "That is the purpose of this first gathering. Were you not paying attention?"

"What will we do there? Most of the owls must be out hunting or delivering letters," Hermione reasoned.

"Exactly," Margot said, smiling at her twin. "We won't interfere with the hunters, but we will put an end to the poor messengers."

That sounded rather ominous. What did they intend to do, she wondered?

"Listen, will this take long?" the Gryffindor asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Cos I really need help with my notes."

"Be patient, Martin. We'll help you with Herbology when we return," Margot promised kindly.

Torpina was already on her feet. "Oh, I've never been to the owlery this late! It's so exciting!"

Hermione shook her head. She couldn't quite believe this was happening. But then, what had she expected exactly of a club called "The Crackpots"?

"Won't the gamekeeper wonder what we're doing there?" she tried to reason again.

"We've got an hour and a half left until curfew," Marina sniffed. "And it's no business of his."

In truth, no one seemed to like smelly old Ogg and his uneven eyes, so Hermione couldn't fault her there. But she still considered the whole enterprise rather pointless. She had no desire to hike to West Tower on a cold October evening.

Yet, she couldn't deny she was curious to see what the twins had planned. She was unwilling to lose potential allies this early in the game. And perhaps, when all was said and done, she could return to the dungeons and regale her roommates with an amusing account. Beatrice Pucey might appreciate it.

With that in mind, Hermione agreed to follow them on this rather unadvised caper.

The wind nipped at the collar of her robe and made her teeth chatter. Wild strands of hair whipped her cheeks. She tucked them angrily behind her ear and continued to climb the steep hill. Hermione cursed under her breath. It was getting on to half-past eight now. They would surely not make the curfew. She wanted to turn back, as she did not relish getting another Detention. But she was further from the castle now than from West Tower. She heaved a weary sigh and trudged on. The Gryffindor Second-Year, Martin, grumbled behind her.

"We won't have time to look over my notes. I am going to fail Herbology."

She stared at him. "It's only the beginning of the year."

"I just know it," he insisted moodily. "My mum says they're getting me a tutor for the summer. I hate tutors."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She sensed an opportunity here. "I could tutor you. I mean…I'm not an expert or anything, but my notes are quite good."

Martin's face brightened considerably. "Would you, really? Cos Herbology's not the only subject I need help with."

Hermione brushed a wayward lock from her mouth. "Well, I'd be willing to assist you…but we'd have to do the work in your Common Room."

"Ha," he laughed. "Wouldn't want a Lion like me in the dungeons, eh? That's fine."

Hermione smiled to herself. She didn't consider Martin a "Lion" proper. For her, it wasn't about avoiding the Slytherin Common Room. It was about taking a nosy look at the Gryffindor tower.

"We'll settle my payment later," she mumbled as she saw the twins approaching.

"Hurry up, you two!" they called out rather forcefully.

Hermione climbed the moss-wreathed steps to the Tower's entrance. Her nostrils were already filled with the pungent smell of roosting and bird droppings. There was a great fluttering inside. As suspected, owls flew in and out regularly, either carrying letters or hunting for an evening snack. It was even colder in the circular room as there was no glass in the windows and the icy currents swept her from all directions. Hermione stepped on a small skeleton of what must have been a vole. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Margot started climbing the winding stairs to the owls' nests. Marina picked up a fallen feather and inspected it thoroughly. She then looked at them with her piercing dark eyes.

"Our objective tonight is to free the birds of their burden," she said in a grave voice, as if announcing a funeral.

Hermione stared at the girl's intrepid twin. Margot had reached one of the owls which were perched on the window's edge, ready to take flight. She started cooing at it as if it were a small bairn.

Hermione wondered what good that could possibly do. Then she noticed that Margot was trying to get at the owl's leg and untangle the letter pouch.

The owl didn't seem to appreciate the intrusion and started hooting aggressively. The sharp, hooked beak was threatening to come down on Margot's hand. But the girl was stubborn. She tried to come at it from a different angle and when that didn't work either, she took out her wand and muttered a spell under her breath. Three small pops erupted from the tip, followed by a strange blue smoke. Frightened, the owl jumped into the air and flapped its wings angrily.

"There's nothing to fear," Margot cooed and flicked her wand again, eliciting more colourful explosions.

The owl cawed as if it had been hit and swooped down on them with blazing fury.

Hermione ducked instinctively, as did the rest of the group. The Hufflepuff boy whose name she'd not really caught had to pull Torpina down with him.

"Did you get the pouch?" Marina cried out, shielding her eyes with her palm.

"No!" Margot shouted back. "But I will, eventually! Everyone should aim at that owl!"

She was still trying to hit it with what Hermione realized was an extremely poor version of a Binding Spell.

The other birds began to fly in circles, clearly disturbed by the noise and spectacle.

Hermione climbed up the stairs and shook Marina's shoulder. "Tell your sister to stop!"

"Why? She is trying to help the poor thing!"

"How?" Hermione bellowed.

"No free creature should have to carry someone else's mail!" Marina shouted, as if she were personally offended.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. She had to duck a second time as three more owls swooped down on them.

"But that is what they're used for!"

"It is medieval!" Marina retorted. "We will destroy all the letters! Every bird should be free!"

Hermione's eyes widened. Crackpots, indeed. "You can't tamper with private letters!"

"Why ever not? They're full of rubbish anyway! Father said that nothing good is ever written down."

"But didn't he write a book?" Hermione bellowed.

She did not receive an answer to that, as Margot hollered from above in triumph.

"I managed to set the pouch on fire!"

Indeed, one of the owls was hooting rather painfully as it beat its wings against a smoking pouch. Even from below, Hermione could see the parchment was kindling.

She ran up the stairs quickly and raised her wand, trying to hit the poor bird with Aguamenti, but the crazed owl flew out the window and was lost into the night, a plume of smoke trailing in its wake.

This was awful.

Hermione wished she could slap the two girls senseless. But first, how to subdue the owls? What she wanted was for them to stop circling, to stop pouncing so chaotically-

Of course, a Freezing Charm! She'd read about those. It couldn't be that hard. Hermione raised her wand and cried a fervent "Immobulus!"

A powerful jut erupted from her wand and half the birds were slowed down in mid-flight. Their unfurled wings stood frozen in motion and their beaks clicked open lackadaisically.

Hermione released a breath.

Much to her surprise, another loud "Immobulus!" echoed from below. The second jet immobilized the rest of the birds quite successfully.

Well, at least one other person in their natty group was sensible.

As the racket died down and the fluttering ceased, Hermione's breath hitched in her throat. She could hear voices outside the tower.

Margot and Marina were already running down the steps, beckoning for the others to follow. "Quick, it must be Ogg!"

Hermione felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She didn't think she'd make it. She'd have better luck coming clean with the whole affair. God, another Detention. What rotten luck. Her parents were bound to find out this time – oh, what would she do?

She dashed halfheartedly out of the Tower and into the cold night air. She could see the rest of her group had run into a pair of figures at the foot of the hill. One of them was holding up a lantern and by its light, Hermione recognized the burly features of the unpopular gamekeeper.

Hermione was not paying attention and she did not see or feel the person striking from the shadows. A hand coiled around her waist and another covered her mouth as she was pulled under the mossy steps, down the other side of the hill. Hermione screamed, but it was muffled. She rolled down with the person who had seized her, their limbs tangling and untangling.

They were both knocked against a raised mound at the bottom of the hill.

Hermione knew who it was by now. She didn't have to see his face or hear his voice. She recognized his heavy panting; she recognized the strange, spectral energy of his body. She knew it well.

Before she could open her mouth, Tom covered it again and pulled her down with him.

"Shhh."

He was right to shush her. Ogg was climbing up the steps leading to the Tower, lantern swinging in his hand. And behind him was…a boy? Hermione didn't recognize him. He definitely wasn't one of the 'Crackpots'. For one thing, he must have been much older. He was a head taller than Ogg himself.

"You search the hill, Hagrid," Ogg instructed the boy in a booming voice. "If you find any wandr'ing students, bring them to me."

The boy nodded gruffly and jumped over the steps. By the light of the lantern she could see that he sported a shaggy mane of hair. But that held little bearing on his eyesight. He was coming down their way.

Both she and Tom started crawling backwards, hearts thumping loudly in their chests. Hermione swore she could hear his as clear as hers. They crept behind the raised mound and sat very still, waiting for Hagrid to pass.

She looked down and saw that their hands were clenched together, their knuckles white with exertion. She recalled in a flash their adventures in the country-side, the cabinet, the boot and the lost baby…The memory stung like an old wound.

"Now!" he hissed in her ear and they both dashed out of their hiding place and made for the clump of trees in the distance.

After a while, they couldn't hear Hagrid's heavy steps or see Ogg's lantern in the distance. The West Tower was shrouded in silence. The owls must have returned to their nightly activities.

She wondered vaguely what had happened to the owl with the burning pouch. But there were more pressing matters at hand.

She detached herself from the tree trunk and stared her brother down. His face in the dark was like a polished river stone. Ripples ran across it without disturbing it.

"Why are you here?"

"I might ask you the same question," he replied coolly.

"I asked you first. And if you must know, I was... exploring the grounds with my friends."

"Befriended the nutters already, have you?" he chuckled.

"Shut up. How did you know I was here? Did you follow me?"

"A good thing I did, you almost got caught, you stupid girl."

"Don't call me stupid! You risked just as much by trailing after me."

"Your Freezing Charm is abysmal, by the way," he spat, ignoring her remark.

"So it was you who cast the second one! I'll have you know, yours was much weaker."

Tom glared at her. "What were you doing anyway, attacking the owls?"

"That wasn't my idea," Hermione glowered. "Never mind that! Why are you following me?"

"Why do you think?" he retorted, eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "I came here to punish you."

"Punish me?" she sputtered. "For what, exactly?"

"You know what," he hissed, taking out his wand and pointing it at the dirty Slytherin badge on her chest.

Hermione quickly slid her own wand between her fingers. She lifted hers to his red Gryffindor badge.

"You know we can't throw spells at each other," she muttered, tightening her grip on her wand nonetheless.

"Why? Afraid you don't know very many?" he taunted.

Hermione lifted her chin. "I've memorized more than you can possibly imagine. I've practically finished the First Year's Book of Spells."

"So have I," he said with a drag to his voice. "That doesn't make you special."

"Well, I'll soon be starting on the Second Year's Book of Spells."

"I already have," he replied smugly. "I'm too bored during class. We're still at the beginning of things. It's such a chore."

"I know. I wish we'd get on a bit faster," Hermione nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. "It's strange. I thought everyone would have read the books in advance, like we did."

Tom scoffed. "Some of them can't even read properly."

Hermione suppressed a small giggle.

They both seemed to realize they were conversing and agreeing with each other and that was horrible. He raised his wand again. "Enough chatter. I don't care if you're afraid to fight."

"No, you daft Gryffindor!" she scolded. "They're bound to catch us if they see the light from our spells! Do you want Ogg to return?"

Tom was annoyed that he had miscalculated his attack. He lowered his wand by degrees. "Then what do you propose, Sis?"

She looked over her shoulder. "If we go any further down the path, we might not find our way back in the dark."

Tom scowled impatiently. "Seems to me you are running out of excuses."

Hermione glowered. "I didn't say we wouldn't fight!"

She stashed her wand inside her pocket. "I've got it now. We'll do it right here. Just like we used to."

"Just like we used to?" he echoed doubtfully.

"Yes. Using our bare fists."

He regarded her with suspicion. "Our fists."

"You remember that, don't you, Tom?"

Something like a feral grin twisted his lips, and he was upon her before she could blink. His sharp elbow hit her in the ribs and she keeled over. He meant to kick her to the ground but she raised her hand quickly and cracked it against his chin. Tom's face flew in the opposite direction. He growled and wiped his mouth. She couldn't see if she had managed to draw blood, but she dearly hoped so. He renewed his attack. Hermione blocked his arm as it tried to jam into her collarbone. His foot struck her repeatedly in the shins and she stumbled and fell.

He was on top of her before she could manage. He was trying to pin her down with his weight. Hermione struggled against him, making it hard for him to keep his balance. She slapped him again, which only aggravated his mood. He sank both his hands in her hair and slammed her head against the packed earth. Hermione groaned, green stars flashing briefly before her eyes. She raised her knees and tried to push him off, but he pulled on her hair so roughly that she felt tears dampen her cheeks. Desperate and hungry for violence, she raised her head and parted her lips. She sank her teeth into his left wrist, biting down hard. She was like a dog with a bone. Tom cursed loudly and tried to wrench away, but her teeth were lodged deep and the only thing to do was roll off her.

Hermione was dragged on top of him and she didn't pause for a single breath. Her nails started scratching his face like a feral cat. She was every conceivable animal and he was every conceivable prey. She thought of the vole's gnawed skeleton, the way it had felt under her boot.

Tom bared his teeth at her. He was going to snap her fingers off.

"Stop it!"

"You stop it!"

"I was supposed to be a Slytherin!"

"I was supposed to be a Gryffindor!" she snarled back.

"It's your -"

"-your fault!"

"I hate you!" they both cried out, and Tom raised his hips, canting his belly against hers, making her fall sideways next to him.

They both lay on the ground, panting heavily. Their robes looked as if they'd been dragged through the mud.

When she turned to look at him, he was staring at her with the usual mixture of anger and revulsion but she could have sworn there was a spark of mischief there too, a sense of devilish enjoyment. She realized, belatedly, that she was enjoying herself too.

"You're not to befriend Seven and Flea," he said, almost choking on his breath.

Hermione blinked. Was that why he'd been so upset to begin with? Why he'd followed her?

"Why not?"

"They're my friends."

"They can be mine too."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes! Are you afraid they'll like me better?" she sneered.

As if he had been waiting for a reason, his body sprang back into action. She was quite ready to take him. They rolled together on the ground, wrestling blindly for control. Neither seemed to get the upper hand for very long. The state of their robes worsened. Neither seemed to care. Anyone watching them from afar would have seen a creature with four arms and four legs, trying to conquer itself.

They tired each other out quicker this time around. When they rolled off, Hermione held up her hand in a sign of ceasefire.

Tom nodded wearily. His face was scratched up, his bottom lip was red with blood.

Hermione hunched on her elbows. Her hair was twisted in violent coils.

"Is it your aim to make my years here miserable?"

Tom did not even hesitate. "Yes."

She was not surprised. Ever since she'd known him, one of his life's purposes had been to make hers worse. It gave him something to look forward to. It compensated for other miseries. She gritted her teeth. Of course, Hogwarts made no difference in his designs. In fact, it amplified them. In his mind, she had wronged him.

But it was he who had wronged her. And truth be told, she wanted to hurt him back.

She swallowed. "Then, I propose an arrangement that will benefit both."

Tom licked his bleeding lip. "What's that?"

"We meet once a month in a secret location and we make each other hurt. But the rest of the month …we don't interfere with each other."

The silence that followed her words was deafening. The night sounds ebbed away until it was just their breathing.

"Once a month?" he repeated.

"Once a month," she confirmed.

They didn't have to shake on it. Their hands had come together enough for one night.

They both stared at the sleeping castle in the distance. There was no avoiding the punishment they'd incur when they returned.

"We'll have to be careful," Hermione said darkly. "We can't get into Detention every time we do this."

Tom jeered. "Isn't this your second?"

"Thank to you."

"You're quite welcome. But don't worry, Sis. They won't catch us again."

"Oh?" she asked, arching her brow.

Tom smirked and his face was an angel's lovely corruption. "I won't bear interruptions."

A/N: I thought this update would take much longer, but I pushed myself to get it done. I am trying to get better at this? I was also bolstered by your lovely reviews, so I owe you lots of thanks for bearing with me. The Tomione crowd on tumblr is also far too nice to me, haha.

So, the Droope twins showed up in chapter 12, if you're curious. And yes, I'm screwing a tiny bit with canon regarding Hagrid (namely, his age), though he was reportedly Ogg's assistant for a while there. I hope there aren't any editing errors, it's pretty late over here. I am excited for future chapters because we have a small time-jump coming up soon. Though, yes, we are taking our sweet time aging them up. Mainly because I love this nascent stage where everything is ambiguous and hazy and not quite innocent. But we will get to older siblings, fret not. Thanks again for putting up with my slow tempo and I hope you enjoy this chapter! (you know where to find me on tumblr, and you can listen to the story's soundtrack(s) on my 8tracks profile)