Chapter Twenty-One – Growing Up
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the original Harry Potter universe.
AN: Wow, I got so many reviews! Thanks! Now, wouldn't you like to do that for every chapter? I know, I know, I promised I wouldn't ask again for twenty chapters. Enjoy the update!
One week had passed since graduation. More importantly, one week had passed since Tom had seen Hermione. Louisa had convinced Hermione and Minerva to go on a vacation until their respective jobs or training started. It had not taken much coercion at all after Louisa informed them that her parents were paying for all expenses. So they had gone off Switzerland.
"Who vacations in Switzerland?" Tom thought irritably as he picked at his supper. He could have understood Egypt or Greece, places of significance in magical history, but Switzerland? Tom gave up on his meal. He had attempted to cook for himself, but inexplicably, he was nearly incapable of the simplest cooking spell. He hoped Hermione was better at it than he was. Otherwise, he would end up spending a good part of his salary at the many restaurants on Diagon Alley.
Tom had spent most of the past week at the Leaky Cauldron while he searched for an apartment. He had received an advance from the Department of Mysteries where he was to start work on Monday, three days away. It had taken him until Wednesday to find the apartment. This was his first day in his new abode. Hermione, of course, had an apartment picked out and paid for in advance three weeks before graduation.
Tom grunted in disgust and stood up from the small table, vanishing the slop he had inadvertently created. Completely without anything else to do, he decided to do laundry. Laundry had always been his least favorite chore at the orphanage. The matron seemed to take great pleasure in watching him scrub out the babies' diapers and various articles of filthy clothing, making it nearly impossible for him to use magic to ease the task. Now, he almost enjoyed it. It pleased him that she was stuck there while he was free with almost no worries about his future. He started going through his robes, removing the stains and using a general cleaning spell. As he was washing the last robe, something fell out of the pocket.
"I forgot about Dumbledore's gift"' Tom thought, picking the wand up from the floor. Once again, the raw power of the wand struck him. It was unlike anything he had ever felt. He looked at it for a moment. Deciding that Dumbledore would have no reason to give him a cursed wand, he began casting simple spells.
"Lumos." "Wingardium Leviosa." "Scourgio." Though always effortless, they seemed perhaps a bit more effortless. He went on to more powerful spells, casting the Patronus Charm. Once again, it was slightly easier than normal and the snake took longer to fade away. Tom was very curious. Why would Dumbledore just give him a wand like this? Dumbledore had never trusted him and had even talked of him becoming a Dark Lord.
"He must have really wanted to be rid of it," Tom thought. "Perhaps he thought it would be most useful to me," he reasoned after a moment. He could not come up with any other explanation. He returned to his experimentation. Looking around his apartment, he thought it a bit bare. He began conjuring temporary furnishings that he could replace once he began earning his salary. Unsurprisingly, his room was filled with shades of green, silver, and black when he was finished. Stretching out on his bed, Tom fell asleep.
Over four hundred miles away, Hermione, Louisa and Minerva were just leaving a tiny restaurant in the Geneva. The food had been exquisite.
"I wonder what Tom is eating right now," Hermione mused.
"Probably nothing," Minerva replied. "I doubt he has ever had to make his own meals before. He probably won't be able to produce his own food for months."
Hermione laughed. "I hope he can do better than that. After all, he can make potions. How hard could cooking be?"
"You aren't a terribly good cook either, Hermione," Louisa commented. "And you're good at potions."
"True," Hermione admitted. "Maybe I'll send him a postcard telling him about our dinner. He should get it before tomorrow night."
"That would be cruel," Minerva said, "but very funny. I would do the same if Philippe hadn't gone home to visit his mother. Apparently, she is a gourmet cook," she added sourly.
"That's a good thing," Hermione pointed out. "You can make him to all the cooking."
"He would be doing all the cooking anyway," Minerva said wickedly.
"So what do you girls want to do our last night here?" Louisa asked excitedly.
"I don't have any ideas," Hermione said. Minerva nodded in agreement.
"I was hoping you'd say that!" Louisa said. She hailed a taxi and whispered something to the driver. After a few minutes, he let them out on a quiet street corner.
"Where are we?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Just follow me," Louisa ordered, giggling.
She led them into a small café. "Trois, sil vous plait," she said to the hostess, who replied something in French. Louisa showed her wand and gestured to Hermione and Minerva while speaking in French. Finally, the hostess led them to what appeared to be the bathroom. She ushered them into the stall and tapped the wall with her wand. It opened revealing a mass of wizards and witches in a night club.
"T'amuse," she said with a smile before returning to the façade.
"Where are we?" Minerva asked.
"Only one of the most exclusive clubs in Switzerland," Louisa said. "Now go have fun, you've dragged me to enough museums this week for a lifetime," she laughed.
"I can have fun," Minerva said, straightening her robes. Suddenly, she cast a charm. Her robe morphed into a fancy cocktail dress. Seeing Hermione's stare, she said, "What's the point in being good at Transfiguration if you never use it?"
"Can you do mine, too?" Hermione asked.
"Sure." Minerva waved her wand again. Hermione's black robe congealed into a full-skirted halter-top that ended just above her knees.
"Thanks," Hermione said, heading off to get something to drink, leaving Minerva standing at the entrance.
Suddenly, someone's hands covered her eyes. Minerva elbowed her assailant in the stomach before turning around and attempting to knee him in the groin. He was already bent over from her first attack, so she ended up hitting his face instead.
"Are you sure you shouldn't have been a Beater, Minnie?" Philippe asked between groans.
"Philippe! What are you doing here?"
"Do I need an excuse to come see my girlfriend?" he asked, standing up. Looking around, he waved at the people staring at their interchange.
"A little warning would be nice," she grunted. Realizing what she had just done, she gasped. "Are you all right," she asked worriedly.
"I'll be fine, nothing worse than what the Gryffindor Beaters used to do to me regularly," he joked.
"Hello, Philippe," Hermione said, walking over to see the cause of all the commotion. "I thought you were past that point in your relationship," she commented, gesturing to the beginning of a bruise across his cheek.
"Minnie is a very passionate woman," he said, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend, preventing her from smacking him again.
"I leave you to it, then," Hermione smirked, going back to the bar.
She sat there a few minutes, nursing a butterbeer. She didn't want to have hangover when they returned the next day. Someone sat down beside her.
"What's a girl like you doing alone at the bar?" a suave English voice asked.
"Just enjoying her drink," Hermione replied coolly.
"Not fond of dancing?"
"Not with men I don't know," she said, turning to look at the man.
"Then let me introduce myself. I am Alphard Black," he said, smiling widely. He was handsome, with dark brown hair and eyes, probably in his early twenties. He looked very similar to Sirius in his younger days.
"Hermione Granger," she said shortly, turning back to the bar.
"Ah, I've heard of you. First in your class this year, my cousin graduated with you."
Hermione thought for a moment. "You wouldn't be talking about Aulus Malfoy?" she asked, curious.
"Yes, darling little Goldilocks is my cousin. How did you guess? Being a Muggleborn, I wouldn't have guessed that you would have such a grasp on pureblood relations."
"I don't. I just know that Malfoys are about a pureblooded as one can be and the Black's motto isn't Toujours Pur for nothing."
"Very impressive, I'm almost afraid that you have been stalking me," he jested.
"Sorry, but I had never heard of you before tonight."
"What! I guess that shows how worthwhile paying for the title of Most Eligible Wizard is," he shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure that Abraxas didn't get it," he said conspiratorially. "That would be Goldilocks' older brother, in case you didn't know."
"I'm not sure I wanted to know," Hermione grimaced. "There are too many Malfoys already."
"I am very inclined to agree with you on that one," Alphard nodded. "The other families marry Malfoys so often that I'm almost afraid we'll all be albino in a few generations."
Hermione laughed. "You have a much better sense of humour than most purebloods I've met."
"I tend to find garden gnomes more humourous than most of my relations. Now, enough about my family. Who exactly is this Hermione Granger that I've heard so much about from my favorite cousin?"
"She's a Muggleborn who is entering Auror training next week."
"What a coincidence, so am I."
"You, an Auror?" she asked disbelievingly.
"I needed something very time-consuming. There's a whole flock of debutantes who want to marry me. They can't try to catch me when I'm working. That means eight hours of peace, five days a week. More, if I can convince Thomson to give me overtime," he said happily.
"I didn't realize that being an Auror counted as a peaceful job."
"You've obviously never been to a debutante ball," he shuddered.
"Alphard! There you are! Who is this?" a tall blonde witch asked, looking down her nose at Hermione.
"This is Miss Hermione Granger, darling, an Auror-in-training. She just graduated last week with Goldilocks."
"You know I hate it when you call our cousin that vile name, Alphard," the witch said snootily.
"Hermione, this is Miss Morgana Lestrange."
"His fiancée," Morgana added.
"Where's your ring?" Hermione asked impudently, glancing at the blonde's hand.
"We haven't gotten it yet, the jeweler didn't have a diamond large enough in stock," she said angrily. Alphard snorted with laughter and tried to hide it with a cough.
"Let's go, dear," Morgana said, latching onto Alphard's arm and dragging his toward the exit.
"See you on Monday," he called.
"Was that Alphard Black?" Louisa asked, walking over to Hermione.
"Yes. He's going to be in my Auror class next week," Hermione said.
"Ooh, Tom's not going to like that," Louisa warned.
"Tom doesn't have anything to worry about," Hermione said. "Are you about ready to leave? I want to start packing tonight."
"Oui, me too. I'll go tell Minerva that we're leaving. Philippe can bring her back to the hotel."
They apparated to their room and packed. Hermione fell asleep at three thinking of seeing Tom the next day. She woke only once during the night when Minerva came into the room. Hermione could see her kissing Philippe in the doorway. She wished that Tom had been able to come with them before falling back asleep.
They next morning, they turned in their keys and went to the room connected to the Floo network. Tom was to meet them at Diagon Alley at eleven o'clock. They arrived exactly on time. Hermione rushed to hug Tom. He returned the embrace before kissing her, earning catcalls from several of the passers-by. Jason was also waited for Louisa, who threw herself into his arms with a squeal. Minerva and Philippe had decided to stay in Geneva for a few more days. He didn't have Quidditch practice until July and Minerva started work a week later than Tom and Hermione.
Tom levitated Hermione's trunk and followed her to her apartment. It was already stylishly decorated in gold and rich jewel tones of red, blue, and green. Overall, it was reminiscent of the Head common room. It had very large windows with sunlight beaming in. It suited her perfectly, just as Tom's apartment suited him. Hermione sprawled upon her bed, tossing her heels on the floor.
"How was your trip?" Tom asked. He had determined over the past few days never to let Hermione go on another trip without him.
"It was great, but I wish you could have come," she murmured sleepily.
"Why so tired?" he asked sitting down on the bed.
"Louisa dragged us to a club last night," she replied.
"Did you know anyone there?" he asked curiously.
"No, but I met Alphard Black. He's starting Auror training next week too."
"Really? From what I've heard, he never does anything other than waste his family's money."
"I would guess that's correct, but he wants to escape all the pureblooded debutantes," she yawned. "I think I'm going to take a nap. Then we can have dinner here, unless you wanted to cook," she added mischievously, looking up at him through half-closed eyes.
"I suppose I could allow you to cook this once," Tom smirked, leaning down to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down next to her.
"I missed you a lot," she said.
"I missed you, too." Her arms slackened as she fell asleep. Tom lay there a moment before removing himself from her embrace and going into the sitting room. Choosing a book from Hermione's full shelves, he ensconced himself in a chair, waiting for her to wake up.
A few hours later, Tom had nodded off while reading. He was awakened by Hermione poking him in the side. He caught her hand and pulled her down into his lap.
"That wasn't very nice," he whispered in her ear.
"Falling asleep when you should be welcoming me home isn't very nice either," she retorted jokingly. "Now come help me with supper. Unless you want to cook your own meal," she offered.
"No, I'll help. Anything for some decent food," he said, springing from the chair.
"Not very handy with the cooking spells, Tom?"
"I don't know why they don't work," he stated. "I've never had trouble with any other charms."
"Maybe you are just not smart enough to pull off a perfect seasoning charm," Hermione joked.
"I guess not," he laughed.
Though simple, Tom thought it was some of the best food he had ever tasted. Though he didn't realize it at the moment, it was the first time anyone had cooked a meal for him, something that most would take for granted.
"I'm so excited about starting training on Monday," Hermione said as they put away the dishes and leftovers. "Two years ago, I would never have thought that I would become an Auror, but now I can't imagine doing anything else."
"Two years ago, I had no idea what I wanted to do," Tom said. "I still don't know exactly, but there will be something intriguing in the Department of Mysteries, I'm sure."
"Definitely," Hermione agreed, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I need to go shopping tomorrow. Do you want to come with me?" she asked.
"I don't have anything that I was planning to do," Tom said. "As long as you don't spend the whole afternoon looking at dress robes," he stipulated.
"You're no fun," she complained.
"Now, if you were shopping for what goes under the dress robes, I might be a little more interested," he smirked, then grunted when Hermione poked him.
"Is the slimy snake-boy ticklish?" Hermione asked innocently.
"No more than you are," he replied, "Rictumsempra!"
"Stop it, Tom!" she shrieked, laughing hysterically.
"Promise you won't poke me anymore?" he asked seriously.
"I won't kiss you anymore if you don't stop," she threatened.
"I can't have that," he said, removing the spell and moving to kiss her.
"I didn't say that I would kiss you if you did either," Hermione retorted, standing up.
"You definitely should have been in Slytherin," Tom said as she walked to the door.
"I need to go to sleep," she said. "We have a busy day tomorrow. I'll see you at nine o'clock sharp."
"You're getting too bossy. Maybe I should find a more obedient girlfriend," Tom sighed.
"Like Petunia Parkinson?" she asked archly. Tom blanched.
"Maybe not," he agreed. "You're perfect." Hermione smiled and kissed him good night.
"See you tomorrow," she murmured.
In Scotland, Albus Dumbledore sat alone in a dark room. He couldn't bear to go to his family's home, where his sister had lived. All the other teachers had left Hogwarts, excited for the escape from students and time to be spend with loved ones. He, on the other hand, had nothing to be excited about. His life had crumbled around him and he was unhopeful that it would ever rebuild itself.
His sister was long since dead, along with his parents. Grindelwald, his closest friend, would be imprisoned for the rest of his life. He had lost the one thing that might have helped him almost the moment he had claimed it. Ostensibly, he was be free, at least in the Ministry's eyes. "In reality, I am far more imprisoned than the worst criminal in Azkaban," Dumbledore thought. "If only I could have gotten the other two." He returned his focus to the mirror before him, losing himself in dreams of what his life could have been.