A/N: Hello babes! Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I hear you loud and clear about the Radalphus scenes - your wish is my command! More Radalphus in this chapter :) I hope you continue to enjoy him! Just a reminder that I will be offering the 1000th reviewer a drabble in this Red Right Hand universe - I think we should probably get to 1000 reviews on this chapter - which will go into Bits and Pieces. I've just added an additional chapter for SereniteRose, who is amazing and reviews so faithfully! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post story updates, sneak peeks, and answer questions!
Please let me know what you thought about chapter twenty-one and be on the lookout for twenty-two soon!
October 2nd, 1939
Tommy had been settling in well to his second year at Hogwarts. After receiving some truly historic marks the year before, breaking several records, all of his professors had high hopes for him this year, most especially his Head of House, Professor Slughorn. The man was constantly hinting that in just a few more years, he would be asked to join the man's little collection, hideously called the Slug Club. It hadn't taken Tommy long to realize that Slughorn collected the influential.
It inspired a little coil of pride inside him to know that people were already recognizing that he was influential, that he was going places, when he wasn't even a teenager yet.
He was excited to forge his own way in Hogwarts, now that Dorea was gone. Of course, he cared for his stepsister, but he didn't need her acting like a mother hen to him. He was becoming a man, and he was able to look after himself. The best was other people were beginning to recognize this in him as well.
He'd been curious to see what kind of new Slytherins they had gotten that year, making mental notes about all the little firsties at the sorting. Alfred Nott was probably had the most promise, though everyone overlooked him on account of his rabbity and small appearance. Tommy could appreciate that, just as much as he could appreciate the boy's devious nature. There was a Carrow as well, called Reginald, though he preferred Reggie, but Tommy found him embarrassing. They hadn't been in school for hardly a month and the boy had already cost Slytherin house fifty points. And Tommy intended for Slytherin to win the House Cup this year...really, it was embarrassing that they'd come in second to Gryffindor last year.
The only other two Slytherin boys in first year were called Crabbe and Goyle, who Tommy thought were hardly worth his time except for their exceptionally large size. He supposed, much like the imbecile Avery, they would serve a certain purpose.
It would take time, but he was so looking forward to the day when he revealed to the rest of the Slytherin boys just how much power he had. He longed for the day that he could reveal that Salazar Slytherin's blood ran in his veins. Then Abraxas wouldn't think that he was so funny when he said mean things about Tommy or his mum. Abraxas would be pissing himself to kiss Tommy's shoe.
He knew that he would need proof, though, so he'd headed to the library. His mum always told him that the library was the best place to start when you were looking for more information. Tommy smirked to himself, realizing that he would be able to gather information on all the other boys' families too, which could only work when he needed a little bit extra leverage. Hell, the Black family itself had all sorts of problems hidden in the branches of his family tree, so he couldn't imagine what sort of secrets the others as well.
Tommy took copious notes on his own family, knowing that his parents were Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle. He wouldn't even deen to put that man down with his magical birth mother, knowing that he was the epitome of muggle filth that Cygnus was always harping against. He wondered how Marius handled it, knowing how wonderful the magical world was, and then being sent away.
Merope Gaunt had a brother called Morfin, but Tommy quickly learned that he was in Azkaban prison, for using magic against muggles, apparently, not that Tommy could blame him. His grandfather, a man called Marvolo, was dead. Tommy had smiled, finally figuring out where his middle name had come from - he and his mum had never talked about it.
His grandmother, Demelza Millefeuille, had been dead for many years, but he was excited to see his connection to his mummy. After all, long before she'd been Hermione Black, she'd been Hermione Millefeuille. His grandmother's brother was called Albaric, and he'd married a woman and they'd had his mum, though the big directory of French purebloods only noted that they had a daughter, born in the autumn. It made him happy to see how they were truly connected, though she would always be his mummy.
As far as he could tell, the Millefeuilles had lived in France for as long as history stretched, so he figured that that Gaunt side was the better side to research the connection to Salazar Slytherin. Besides, only he was a parselmouth, not his mummy, so he figured it was a trait shared to the Gaunt side of the family. He wished he could ask someone...maybe he would send Uncle Morfin a letter, if they were allowed letters in Azkaban.
For now, he would look into Marvolo's parents. Tommy knew it was going to be a lot of work, seeing as it would span several centuries back to the time of the founders, but he was determined to get to the bottom of it, even if he took him a whole year to trace it back.
October 31st, 1939
"Tell me again who told you about this." Tommy demanded, wondering just why they were wandering through the edges of the Forbidden Forest on Halloween night, when it was surely the most dangerous time to enter into the forest.
"Don't tell me you're scared, Riddle." Abraxas said with a mean little sneer.
Tom didn't stop himself from rolling his eyes at the blond's antics. For some reason, he was constantly out to prove how much better he was than Tommy, though he failed more often than not. "No, I am just trying to weigh the risks and benefits here."
Abraxas turned to hiss at him. "Look, I heard Longbottom and Wood talking and they overheard Professor Kettleburn talking with Dippet about how there was a wounded unicorn in the forest. Do you want to find it or not? Just think, if we help it, it could grant our wildest wish!"
"Unicorns do not grant wishes." Tom hissed, hating that he'd been woken up from his bed to go traipsing in the dark and cold for such a silly quest. And who could even believe the words of two Gryffindors. It was more likely that they were trying to set the Slytherins up in a trap of some kind, which would likely end up in detention.
"Besides, what would you even wish for Brax?" Edmond said beside him, throwing Tommy a secret little smile. "For Wally's hand in marriage?" The rest of the boys broke out in a fit of giggles, knowing that Walburga Black made no secret that she had her sights set on the Malfoy heir, to Abraxas's disgust. Even in the dark, Tommy could see that Abraxas's cheeks were bright pink.
"Well, at least someone actually wants to marry me. Not like any of you cretins." Abraxas argued, but unfortunately for him, all the boys were still at the age that girls hadn't quite come onto their radar, though it was on the precipice. In another year, there would be Hogsmeade weekends, and awkward hand holding, and stolen kisses, but for now, the thought of kissing a girl - or worse, kissing Walburga - was too much to consider.
Edmond was turning out to be a very genuine friend, Tommy was quickly learning. They understood each other in ways that the other boys wouldn't for years. Edmond was the only person thinking of what lie beyond Hogwarts, and the only one who was making any kind of plans for what he'd like to do after school. Edmond was the only person who had realized that power - not influence, or money, or good looks - was what drove your success in life. And Tommy could respect that, so long as Edmond understood who was really in charge between the two of them when push came to shove.
It was Dmitri who caught the shimmering quicksilver blood smeared on the tree, and in an excited sequence of Russian expletives got the rest of their attention. "That's unicorn blood, right?" He asked, bouncing on his heels, clearly proud of himself. Tommy made a note of that as well...clearly Dolohov enjoyed being recognized for his contributions.
The boys, feel of eagerness and hope, bubbling up out of their throats in a cacophony of whispers, began to track the silvery blood as it dripped along through the forest. Tommy kept his hand tight around his wand, knowing that they were drawing a large amount of attention to themselves. Obviously, Malfoy didn't care whether the other creatures in the forest would attack them, but he wasn't about to bring it up again, in case he was accused of being scared again. His ego could only take so much.
They tromped happily up through the leaves, breaking sticks and rustling branches, and they quickly came upon the clearing, bursting through, thrumming with wonder at what they were going to find. Dmitri had gone through first, and his unexpected stop had the rest of his dormmates crashing into him, even sending Evan sprawling on his arse.
Tommy looked beyond Dmitri, feeling his heart leap to his chest to see that the clearing was already occupied by Professors Dumbledore and Kettleburn, Headmaster Dippet, and two centaurs, as well as a dead unicorn. It seemed no one would be getting their wishes.
"Children." Dumbledore said calmly, seemingly unruffled at finding them. Tommy rankled at being called a child. "What in Merlin's name are you doing out of bed after curfew - and in the Forbidden Forest no less?"
Avery was the one with a bumbling answer for the bespeckled man, though Tommy thought that they couldn't have thought of a worse spokesman for the group. "We heard there was a unicorn, and Malfoy said it would grant us a wish if we helped it."
The centaur took the most offense to that statement, his tail swishing behind him, and strong arms crossing over huge, muscled chest. Tommy felt a bit vindicated to know that it was true that the unicorn wouldn't grant them a wish, though he felt stupid for being lumped in with the rest of the boys. "That does not forgive breaking of the rules, Mr. Avery. I think that some extended detention should help get the message across." Headmaster Dippet said sternly. "And five points from Slytherin, each. Perhaps since you are so interested in magical creatures, you can help Professor Kettleburn with some cleaning."
Before Kettleburn could agree to the help, Dumbledore just had to butt in. "As it happens, Armando, I do have some turtles to get ready for the third year's transfiguration lessons. Perhaps the boys might be able to help me with that instead."
Tommy kept his face cool, though he wanted nothing more than to throw a tantrum at being assigned detention with the fool Dumbledore. It was no secret that Dumbledore had it out for Slytherins, and Tommy hated the way Dumbledore seemed to keep a particular eye on him. Like he always knew what he was up to. Plus, he thought working with Kettleburn might have actually been interesting. He kept silent when Dumbledore offered to escort them back to the dungeons, annoyed with himself for getting caught.
It wasn't very Slytherin at all.
December 24th, 1939
Hermione watched from the side of the room while Charlus Potter spun the newly minted Mrs. Dorea Potter around the ballroom, looking like she hung the moon and stars. If she squinted her eyes, she could almost imagine that it was Harry's wedding she was at. She felt tears in her eyes, and she wondered if this might not have been such a happy occasion if she hadn't been there to calm Cygnus. She knew that in this case, at least, her presence in the past had given Dorea a happy ending.
It seemed as if everyone in the wizarding world had been invited into the Potter's grand ballroom, and she wondered if it was some kind of dig from Henry Potter to Cygnus, for thinking that the Potters were somehow not good enough for Dorea Black.
Still, it meant for a fun night of socializing for Hermione, seeing people that she didn't normally see - like old Madame Brown, who seemed pleased with how well she'd done for herself, and Lady Rowle, who always treated her like an upstart. She also saw some of her good friends like Flavia. And of course, she saw her pushy family, their disappointment with her painfully obvious.
She enjoyed seeing Tommy in his formal dress robes, taking Belvina's daughter around the room for a turn, showing off the dancing skills he'd acquired in his youth. If only he didn't look quite so miserable to have Elladora chatting his ear off.
Hermione giggled at the sight behind her glass of champagne, which was flowing freely as the night went on, compliments of magically refilling glasses. She was already feeling a little bubbly and tipsy, but most importantly, happy while she watched her son.
"My, my, is that what the mother of the bride fashion is like here in England?" Radalphus's accented voice cut through the din of the rest of the guests, and Hermione wondered if it was just because she was so attuned to him.
She blushed prettily, turning to greet him with a smile, and a kiss pressed to his bearded cheek. She'd worn a form fitting shimmering gold dress that had made Irma a little bit green with envy to see the way that Cygnus's eyes had lingered on hers. Hermione wished she could play off his compliment in a fun and flirty way. "I can't wear anything without someone disapproving of it. They usually blame it on my continental ways."
"Who could not approve of seeing you in that?" He asked, giving her a warm smile.
Hermione was reminded of the last time she'd been along with Radalphus, when he'd tried to kiss her in the gardens at his home and she'd turned him away. In a way, she was pleased to know that he still hadn't given up on her, because whenever she saw him, she felt her heart speed up a bit. She couldn't lie...she'd entertained several fantasies in the bath about what could have happened if she'd only met that kiss head on. "The Black paterfamilias for one. Sirius." She said, pointing the man out.
"Your husband seems to enjoy it." He said, standing next to her, pressing his side against her's, his hand coming to rest on her lower back, the warmth seeping into her body. She enjoyed the way that he spoke low, a secret little conversation with just the two of them. He was the only one who seemed to understand her.
Looking up at him, she caught his warm brown eyes, and gave him a little smirk. "I didn't dress up for him." She didn't say what was hanging in between them, that she might have dressed this way, in the hope that Radalphus would be there, and that him might still notice her.
His own breath caught in his throat, when he seemed to understand her meaning, even if it remained unsaid. He turned to face her, letting his hand slide to rest on her waist. "How would you like to go for a turn around the room?" He asked.
Hermione wanted to groan at just how attracted to him she was. She was playing with fire, she knew it, but she couldn't stop herself. Nodding, she let Radalphus lead her to the dance floor, and took one of his hands in her own, mesmerized by how much larger his paw was than her dainty hand. She placed the other on his shoulder, enjoying the feel of the muscle under his own dress robes. His hand settled on her waist, and she thought she must be crazy because it felt right there.
She didn't object when he held her a little bit closer than what was probably socially acceptable. Instead, everyone else in the room seemed to fade away, and she was instead just drawn into conversation with Radalphus, talking about his children. It was one of the more attractive things about him, that he seemed to care so much about his children, because it was something that she felt as well. Apparently, Mercedes was getting quite antsy to go to Hogwarts.
For once, she let her mind wander, and she found herself wishing that the night would never end, that she could stay in Radalphus's warm protective bubble forever, and she felt a giggle coming on. Of course, she didn't know if he was really going to be Rodolphus and Rabastan's grandfather, but judging from the name she thought it was a real possibility. How was it that two such odious Death Eaters could come from the same gene pool as such a delightful man, who was remarkably simple, who was ambitious and sexy and funny and read muggle literature. She wondered what happened.
She let Radalphus lead her through the steps of another dance, effortlessly guiding her around the room, practiced. Hermione let her eyes peek over the top of his shoulder, her chin resting against his chest, only to come face to face with her husband.
To her surprise, she could see a kind of jealous rage in his eyes, from where he was standing, seeing her so happy in the arms of another man. She wondered if he was finally realizing that his continued adultery with Irma, who he was ostensibly in a conversation with, had consequences. That he might realize that she wasn't pining for him when he was with other women. She wondered if part of it, though, was the fact that it was Radalphus whose arms she was in, knowing that he held a bit of a grudge against him for some reason. Perhaps because Radalphus was good looking, better than the Black family looks, and that he and Hermione obviously got on smashingly.
Hardening herself, she refused to let herself feel bad for Cygnus. If she'd loved him, truly, she would have been devastated by his continued cheating. He obviously didn't care about how his affair with Irma hurt her or hell, even his own son, so why she should care how her enjoying a night of dancing in a handsome man's arms?