Notes: Hi everyone, and thank you once again! This chapter was meant to include an attack on Lestrange's castle, but it got out of hand. That's next chapter, I promise!


Chapter Fifty: Lord of Serpents


Hogsmeade.

To attempt to keep the unpleasant business at hand out of his mind, Tom recalled the pleasant morning he had had with Hermione as he waited outside the gates of Hogsmeade. Almost immediately upon awakening, they had made love again—despite having done it the night before—and finally, after a filling breakfast, Tom had Apparated away to Scotland. He would not be able to Apparate back, unless this trip went badly and he failed to retrieve the basilisk.

If Dumbledore has somehow managed to kill it, he will regret it, Tom swore to himself. I cannot imagine how he could get into the Chamber of Slytherin, since Mother and I are the only Parselmouths—well, she does think that the twins are, but they can't speak. But who knows what resources Dumbledore may have? If he has a way, he will use it. Tom fumed as he gazed up at the cloudy sky. He had to admit that he respected Dumbledore's resourcefulness, but he did not respect its being used against him.

A witch and a wizard were finally approaching the gates. Tom made his best effort to put a pleasant expression on his face as they unlocked the gates and let him inside the village.

"Mayor Frank Longbottom," the wizard said. "This is my wife, Alice. We know who you are… Lord Thomas."

Tom scowled despite himself. "Then do you know why I am here?"

"The High Master told us that you planned to retrieve something from the castle."

"Yes," Tom said. "It's something that belongs to my family." He gazed at them. "And I also have a few questions for you."

Longbottom bristled. "Let us go indoors for that. It looks like rain anyway. We will notify the High Master of your arrival, and he will admit you shortly, we think."

"That's nice to know." Tom was unable to keep the snideness out of his voice as he accompanied the Longbottoms to their home.

He gazed around scornfully once inside—not because it was a small cottage, exactly; he would not have done so in the house of a friend, but because the Longbottoms were part of an organization engaging in questionable actions and he meant to put them ill at ease by any means. Without being invited, he took a seat in the largest chair in the room, well aware that it was likely Longbottom's own chair.

The couple exchanged glances but did not say anything as they sat down. Tom gazed out imperiously at them. "Well," he said curtly, "we are indoors. Mayor Longbottom… where is your son? I expected to see him here."

"He is at the home of Arthur Weasley," Longbottom said, suspicion in his words.

"I see. He does fancy the Weasley girl, of course." Tom curled his fingers over the arms of the chair. "Now… my real questions. First, you were at Castle Grange a few days ago, the castle of my lady wife's late parents, to cast wards to protect her cousin's family. Why? How can you presume to do such a thing without telling her, knowing that she is a noble lady and your son is her friend?"

Longbottom drew back at the verbal attack. "I merely reinforced the wards that High Master Dumbledore cast," he said. "I should think that she would be grateful for the aid, given what had just happened to her parents!"

Alice Longbottom grimaced, clearly thinking it a very bad idea for her husband to challenge Riddle.

Tom felt a spark of anger for a moment, but then his face blossomed into a smirk. "Perhaps we both would," he said, "if not for the fact that Dumbledore took no interest in protecting her parents! The castle was warded before Lord Malfoy attacked, but it would have been better if he had added his protection. Why didn't he?" Tom did not wait for them to respond. He leaned forward to make the kill. "Might it have to do with the fact that you and he are currying favor with the Muggle king, and the deaths of Muggles at the hands of wizards would further your agenda?"

Longbottom sputtered in protest. "Lord Thomas—you—"

Tom stared back impassively. "Do you deny it?"

"I certainly deny it!"

That surprised Tom. He attempted to catch the man's gaze with own to perform Legilimency, but Longbottom seemed to know that he had the ability and would not allow himself to make eye contact. "What do you deny?" Tom finally said. "I know that you are part of the group called the 'Friends of the Founders.' You have worked with James Potter and the Weasleys, who have formed an alliance with the king-pretender. What, exactly, do you deny?"

"I deny that we let Lord and Lady Granger die. I deny that this alliance has anything to do with harming magical people."

"That may be your intention," Tom said coolly, "but your intentions mean nothing. If James Potter and the Weasleys go whinging to the king about Lord and Lady Granger—as if they cared anything about my wife's family—what will happen is that magical people will be harmed." He stared at them. "I have been told that they intend to give him and his Muggle nobles an enormous amount of control over wizarding affairs. Do you not understand what this will mean for magic… and especially for witches? I don't know what the king himself thinks, but do you not know why so many of his supporters back him? It's because they don't want his female cousin on the Muggle throne. Why are you part of this? Why is Dumbledore?"

Longbottom took a deep breath. "Lord Thomas… we are indeed quite aware of this. We know what Potter thinks, and what most of the Weasleys think, about women. We also know what the Weasleys think of magical people. They think Muggles need protection from witches and wizards, which is arguably true—"

Tom snorted in derision. "It is arguably false, as well. My own ancestors, the Celtic druids, led the Muggle chieftains of their clans well. The trouble in this island began with the filthy Romans and then the wizard Merlin, who poured poison into King Arthur's mind against his own wizard son."

The Longbottoms exchanged looks. "With all due respect, Lord Thomas, I do not wish to argue with you on this. As you rightly say, the issue is debatable. My point is that the Weasleys think the debate is closed in favor of their view, and that this implies that magical people should be heavily restricted by Muggles. My wife and I don't agree with that at all. Neither does Dumbledore."

"Then why are you part of it?"

"We have three reasons. One is to mitigate the Weasley influence, quite honestly. The second is that we think Stephen would provide the most political stability to the island. We are in Scotland, of course, but the Muggle monarch is a client king, so we are affected. Some of the English opposition to Stephen's cousin is not due to her sex, but rather, because of her status as a foreigner, an outsider to their ways. And the third is that we are concerned about the long-term prospects of keeping ourselves—witches and wizards—too isolated from Muggles. If their customs change, but ours don't, eventually there will be a dangerous degree of divergence. This could result in our being targeted harshly."

Tom shook his head. "To my thinking, that is an argument for us to influence Muggles, not the reverse. We should not meekly follow their lead if they are doing things that would harm our culture."

A knock sounded at the Longbottoms' door. Mistress Longbottom rose from her chair to see to it. In a moment, she was back.

"High Master Dumbledore will see you, Lord Thomas," she said. She looked relieved.

Mayor Longbottom rose, relief etched on his face as well. Tom was sour and dissatisfied, but he could not actually detect any lies from the man. Grudgingly he made his farewells and met Dumbledore at the door.

The older wizard regarded Tom with faint disapproval. Tom wondered what that was about. Perhaps Dumbledore disapproved of him on principle.

"High Master," he said in clipped tones, "as you know, I am here to retrieve the basilisk of Slytherin, as my lady mother agreed months ago."

Dumbledore nodded as they began to walk the short distance to the great castle. "I received your letter."

He said nothing else until they were inside the castle itself. They stood in the Great Hall, regarding each other wordlessly, attempting to perform Legilimency on each other.

Finally Tom spoke, and his words and tone were harsh. "I spoke with the Longbottoms while I was in their house. I am quite certain that they will report the discussion to you, so I will pose the same questions to you while we are here."

Dumbledore waited, seemingly expecting this.

"First: Why did you not attempt to protect Lady Hermione's parents, since you were clearly interested in protecting her cousin? Second: What are your intentions in informing the Muggle king of that attack, as my allies and I believe? And third: Why have you aligned yourself with the Weasleys and James Potter?" He glared at the High Master, his eyes flashing red, though he did not know it.

Dumbledore noted that and raised his eyebrows. "I may have some questions for you as well, Lord Thomas. But… I will answer you first. I did not add wards to the late Lord Granger's castle because I did not think it necessary. Lord Malfoy did not attack them despite knowing of them for four years. I presumed that, if he intended it at all, he would be thwarted by the protection you and your lady mother had put on their castle. Indeed, I supposed that he might already have been thwarted. Once I saw that that was not the case—which unfortunately was only after the attack—I put up wards."

Tom's nostrils flared in irritation, but this did make sense. Unfortunately, it also implied that their wards had been inferior—or at least, that Dumbledore believed them to be so. Malfoy and Lestrange did tear them down, he thought unhappily, but could they do that to Dumbledore's wards too? I don't want to find out. Even if that cousin is a magic-hater, his innocent wizard child does not deserve to die. And neither does the man himself, for that matter.

"As to your second question, I have not informed the king of the attack at all."

Tom scoffed. "Don't play games with me, High Master. You do not have to do it yourself. Percival Weasley is a royal knight. You know this."

"Lord Thomas, do you think I can prevent a grown man from talking to his king if he wants to?"

"I think that if you disapprove of using another family's tragedy for your own purposes, you could tell your allies that you don't want it done. The question is, do you in fact disapprove?"

Dumbledore hedged. "I think it is not quite as simple a matter as that. The person who attacked is the High Lord of Wizards. The king should know about that. And the current Lord Granger is lord of that castle now, and he had no objection to His Majesty's being informed. Is his word to be disregarded because a cousin did not know about it?"

"Your allies omitted an interesting fact from 'the current Lord Granger,'" Tom said. "My allies later informed him that the people who so helpfully swore their support to him were wizards. He was not so keen on them after that." He glared at Dumbledore. "And this is all beside the point. The reason why Lady Hermione's parents were attacked is that they were her parents. It had nothing to do with her cousin. She was the one who mattered, and your 'Friends' have displayed utter contempt for her." Tom forked an eye at Dumbledore. "And that leads to my third question. What do you intend to come of this alliance? You must understand what it could mean for wizards and witches—especially witches. What are you playing at?"

Dumbledore considered the questions seriously. "Lord Thomas, I will speak plainly."

"Good. I did not come here to hear lies."

"I do not agree with every view that James Potter and certain of the Weasleys hold," he admitted. "However, through the knighted son, they have His Majesty's ear, and given that fact, I would prefer to have their ears than not. We made the alliance in the first place because the Muggle civil war was creating chaos in the country. Lord Malfoy would not likely have been able to do all that he has done if not for the fact that the Muggle crown is so weak and so much power has been diverted to the nobles. It is important for the country to become settled again."

Tom scowled. This was similar to what the Longbottoms said. Either they and Dumbledore had agreed upon these claims before his visit, or this really was what they all thought.

"I do not think it is in the interest of magical people for someone like Lord Malfoy to continue to rule," Dumbledore said. "His decision to exclude Muggle-borns from our society will eventually result in an untrained witch or wizard becoming a menace to the Muggles, by developing an Obscurus, or by an explosion of undirected magic. This would be the worst possible outcome, for that to be the way that most Muggles learn of magic."

"I agree with you about Lord Malfoy," Tom said gruffly, "but why support the Weasleys' plan? Why did you not seek out an alliance with my family instead?"

Dumbledore eyed him skeptically. "Lord Thomas, your lady mother did not take any serious steps to concentrate her own power until very recently."

"She made alliances with five families—six, since the Greengrass family has an alliance with the Flints—and that happened two years ago."

"She made those alliances for her own protection. It is only very recently that your family gave any indication of challenging Lord Malfoy for his position."

"I made my intentions clear years ago."

"You were a pupil at the school." Dumbledore held up his hand as Tom began to protest. "Did you honestly think that anyone but your own school friends considered your royal claim as something that could possibly be pursued? Yes, I knew what you were talking about with them," he added as Tom flushed faintly. "It was not a serious effort, Lord Thomas. I recognize the fact that your actions now are serious, and that you seem to have attainable goals in mind… especially with your alliance with the House of Black… but it is rather late for me to abjure the allies I have."

"So you would ally with me if you did not think it dishonorable to break an oath?"

Dumbledore demurred. "I still think it best to influence the Weasleys."

"Frankly, High Master, you are not doing a very good job of influencing the Weasleys. They mean to give the Muggle king anything he asks for regarding our people, and he is certain to ask for heavy restrictions if they do give him such a slanted view of magic. They intend to give wizarding gold to foreign goblins, and the Weasley boys hold witches in contempt, just like the Muggles they admire. Lady Hermione overheard you in conversation with Professor McGonagall last winter." Dumbledore's bright blue eyes widened at that, to Tom's pleasure. "You seem to have no control over them at all," he said aggressively, "and based on that conversation, I will guess that it's because you don't believe they mean what they say about witches."

"Arthur Weasley is a kind man, and I have never known him to express disrespect for a witch."

"That may be, but he is apparently not the one in charge. The mother coddles her boys and speaks ill of her own sex, I'm told. When Malfoy made that law allowing wizards to put their wives under the Imperius Curse, the youngest son gloated that this was a great thing and that he wished his father would do it. This is what they think."

"That is appalling, and I do not agree with it."

"It is very similar to Muggle views about women," Tom pressed, "and that is not coincidental. I am sure that is where they got their views, since they admire Muggles so much and want to toady to a Muggle king at his court in exchange for power and wealth."

"Exactly. They are the ones who have a seat at His Majesty's table, and for that pragmatic reason, I must remain in their good graces."

"And if I were to accomplish something comparable?"

Dumbledore regarded Tom with calculation. "We shall see, Lord Thomas. That depends greatly on how you accomplish it." He gestured out at the doors to the Great Hall. "You are here for the basilisk of Slytherin. What do you intend to do with it?"

Tom glared at the older wizard. "You just told me that you aren't on my side. Why should I tell you my war plans?"

"I hope you don't intend to use it against the Friends of the Founders."

"I hope not too," Tom said pointedly. "That is not in my plans, at least." He gazed out at the doors and began to walk in that direction.

"I will not interfere with you. You have a way of obscuring the creature's eyes, I trust?"

"I have cloth in my pack and a cart that I can expand to its proper size."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment as Tom reached the doors. "One last question for you," he said just as Tom began to push them open. "Whom did you kill, Lord Thomas?"

Tom stopped cold. He turned around to face Dumbledore, eyes wide with surprise. He had a horrible feeling that he knew exactly what Dumbledore was asking about. "What are you talking about?" he bluffed, hoping that he was wrong.

"I think you know. I know the physical signs of certain old magic too. I will not pretend to condone all your choices… but you killed one of our shared enemies, I presume. That part is good news. Who was it?"

Tom blinked. It seemed that there was no hiding the facts. "Amycus Carrow," he said. "He tried to kill Hermione. And if you really aren't my enemy, High Master, you'll keep your mouth shut," he added savagely, drawing his wand. "Armand Malfoy has done that and worse. The worst."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Lady Hermione's cousin did say…."

"It's true," Tom said. "He also used the Killing Frost spell against my mother."

Dumbledore looked appalled. "That has never been seen in the British Isles before."

"It certainly has not."

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "I will stay out of your way if you will limit your vengeance to those who have harmed your family, Lord Thomas. A safe journey to you."

Tom regarded the other wizard for a few more moments before nodding. He opened the great doors and headed for the entrance to the Chamber, his long robes flying behind him.


Tom trod the familiar path to the Chamber. All the while, it seemed burned in his brain that this had ended very badly the last time…. But it won't happen now, he reminded himself. Dumbledore is the only other person in the castle, and he is staying well clear of this. Hermione is safe at Parselhall, and I won't die permanently even if I catch a glimpse of its uncovered eyes.

The basilisk still slumbered. Tom hissed a command at it in Parseltongue to awaken it, looking down at the floor as it stirred.

"Master," the snake hissed at him.

"Great Serpent," Tom said, "I have come today to get you out of this castle, and bring you to the home of descendants of your first master—my home. There is work to be done."

The basilisk considered this. "As you wish." It paused. "When you summoned me before, something happened."

"Yes," Tom said, not wanting to think of that. "The material I used to cover your powerful gaze was too thin, and a person saw your eyes through it. My… mate," he said, deciding upon a word that he supposed the basilisk would readily understand. "But she did not die, because she did not look directly upon them. All is well now between us."

"Then I am glad. I have never had a mate, but it would be a hard thing to lose one."

Yes, it would, Tom thought. Aloud he said, "I will need to cover your eyes again, and the cloth is thick this time. You will be safe when I move you. I will protect you."

"As you wish," the basilisk repeated. "My eyes are closed. What kind of work needs to be done?"

Tom summoned the blindfold from his pack and magically expanded it. He cast a spell to make it hover in the air before settling upon the basilisk's head and tying itself in a comfortable knot, holding it secure but not too tight. He smirked as he began to explain, in Parseltongue, the terrible wrong that had been committed against the descendants of Slytherin.


Tom gladly pocketed the money that he had just received from the sale. The trip to the Scottish coast had been uneventful, but he had passed numerous Muggles on the road. It would have been an issue if he had not had the foresight to buy a horse to pull the cart containing the basilisk, even though he could enchant the cart to drive itself. However, horses did not do well on ships, and he did not need the horse for the short journey from the southern English coast to Parselhall. That was a very magical area anyway, and the Gaunts had frightened away most of the Muggles in that strip between the shore and the castle.

The ship—well, more of a boat, really—was already charmed for speed and safety. A magical Irish family of traders sailed between the islands, and Tom had brought more than enough coin to persuade one of them to captain the boat away from their usual trade route. He had hedged about the nature of the cargo that he was carrying, but took full responsibility for its security while on board. Indeed, the basilisk would not pose a threat to anyone while locked below deck in a magical sleep, its eyes blindfolded.

The Irish wizard was not willing to come ashore himself in England, especially since it was apparent to him that the young lord who had hired him was transporting a magical beast for use in a wizarding war. However, coin was coin, and Tom gave his oath to the man that he would not speak of the transaction to any of his enemies.

He wheeled the basilisk's cart aboard the ship.


Castle Parselhall at Hangleton.

Hermione and Severus were not quite sure what to do. Sirius Black still had not reappeared, and Harry was growing restless with worry about his mother. The Malfoys had not responded to the letter that the Riddles had sent.

And now, Luna Lovegood and her eccentric father had come to Parselhall to swear loyalty. Hermione and Severus had accepted their oaths in Tom's name, and Harry was very glad to see Luna, but Hermione was not at all sure that Tom would welcome this. Xenophilius Lovegood was a strange man, and he had never been admitted into the inner circle of the Friends of the Founders. He did not know any of their secrets. Indeed, the Riddles and Severus knew more about their activities than he did.

Still, Hermione thought, fingering the locket around her neck tenderly, a wand is a wand. At least the man could duel. Even if he wasn't good for anything else, he was good for that.

More problematic was the letter that she held in hand. It was addressed to Tom, but they had opened it after seeing the name of the sender.

.

My lord Regent of Hangleton,

News has come to me of the alliance between my noble brother-in-law Lord Black and your family. In accord with the rest of my family, I was outraged and appalled at the murder of the late Lord Arcturus Black a year ago. I now express my outrage for the shocking crimes against your family and your lady's family.

I am pleased that my noble sister and brother-in-law support you, and that their sons—both the acknowledged and the rebel—are in alliances. The actions of Lord Malfoy and Lord Lestrange are acts of war, and I wish to fight beside my family and yours. I speak on behalf of my lady wife, Druella Rosier Black, and our loyal vassal, Caractacus Burke. We have much to share with you.

Respectfully offered,

Lord Cygnus Black

.

"Tom should see this and decide what to do about it," Hermione said. "Burke used to be part of Malfoy's plans. He could know quite a lot. If he really has turned his cloak…."

"Pettigrew believed that he had," Severus said. "He said that they called Burke a traitor. The stories check out. Of course Tom will want to perform Legilimency on all of them… and I will want them to take Veritaserum."

"Burke had better not have any ideas about Lady Merope," Hermione said.

Severus clutched his wand. "If he even alludes to it, he will regret it," he said darkly. "It might, in fact, be the last thing he regrets. I won't tolerate it."

"It will be hard to refuse Lord Cygnus if we want to keep Lord Black with us," Hermione mused. "And possibly Lord Regulus too. Andromeda is Cygnus's daughter."

"Such are the complications of navigating noble alliances."

She sighed. "I know. I remember… my parents…." Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, which she blinked away. "I still don't want to do this without discussing it with Tom first. I will explain to him why it's necessary to admit them… I won't let him refuse them… but he would probably be offended if we accepted them without consulting with him at all." She put the letter aside.


A few days later, Tom wheeled his cart, once again containing the basilisk, onto a windswept dock. He gave a final glance back at the boat, but the captain merely nodded in acknowledgment, bowed respectfully, and quickly began to turn the helm to get the boat away from the shore.

Coward, Tom thought scornfully—but so it was. He had served his purpose, anyway. Tom cast the spells that would enable the cart to roll itself and leapt aboard, smiling smugly as the salt spray soon gave way to sunny fields. He took a pear and a breadroll out of his pack and began to munch, enjoying the ride.

I will see Hermione again, he thought. It has not been that long, but I've missed her. The thought of her warmed him all over once again.


Castle Parselhall at Hangleton.

"My lord!" a house-elf exclaimed, bursting into the parlor. "My lord and my lady! He is here! Lord Master Thomas has returned."

"Does he have something large with him?" Hermione asked, rising from her seat.

The elf nodded gravely. "He sent Fionn to tell Lord Severus and Lady Hermione that he is putting it into the vault first."

"Yes," Severus remembered, "she said it opened from the hillside too. He must be using that entrance instead."

Hermione felt trepidation about the idea of the basilisk of Slytherin being nearby once again, but it was necessary, and Tom had control over it. It could not accidentally get out, and he knew to be careful now.

In a few minutes, the door swung open and Tom walked into the room toward them. He was wearing his dark green cloak and looked, to Hermione, somehow older and more mature than he had when he had left. He is truly a man now, she thought with a bittersweet mix of affection and sadness. Adulthood had come with a price for them both.

He reached the far corner where they sat. His dark hair was windswept, and his face was suffused with satisfaction and pride. The combination was extremely attractive. Hermione's heart thumped—and then he lifted her out of her seat, to her feet, and pulled her in his arms as he planted a kiss on her lips. He did not care a bit about Severus seeing.

She threaded her fingers into his messy hair as he wrapped his arms tighter around her back. "Welcome home," she murmured next to his mouth as they drew away slowly from each other.

He gazed momentarily at the locket around her neck, a dark, pained look coming over his face at the sight of it. "I never took it off except to bathe," she told him, her voice unexpectedly cracking.

He pulled her close and kissed her again, this one quick but intense. "I will have to ask you to take it off if you insist upon going to war beside me," he said.

She nodded. "Of course."

"Severus," Tom said formally in acknowledgment of his stepfather. Severus had the twins wrapped in a blanket on the two-seat sofa next to him. Tom leaned over, caressing their soft, delicate, still almost hairless heads gently. They stirred at his touch but went back to sleep.

"The basilisk is secured in the vault," he said, taking his place in the grandest chair. Hermione sat down again. "I learned some interesting information from the Longbottoms and Dumbledore. It seems that they are not truly 'on the side' of the Weasleys and James Potter, at least as far as their views are concerned. It's a strange form of pragmatism for them. They did not believe there was any serious challenge to Malfoy other than that. Now that there is… well, Dumbledore, at least, said he would not get in our way. I think we can outmaneuver the Weasleys and Potter with words and stratagems."

"That is a relief," Hermione confessed. "Meanwhile, we now have the sworn wands of the Lovegoods… who have been quartered here."

Tom nodded. "That does not surprise me. Has Black shown his face yet?"

"Sirius Black? No, he has not," she said as Severus scowled at the mention of that man. "But we have heard from another pair of Blacks. I think you'll find this interesting. Severus and I did not want to take any action on it until you returned." She reached for the letter from Cygnus Black and passed it to him.

Tom read it, his brows joining together, and then set it aside. "I suppose we must admit them. I will want to examine all of them, but especially Burke. Admitting one opportunist to the castle did not work well for us. Let's not give free rein to another—and Burke is certainly another." He rubbed his forehead. "Has there been any word from Lucius Malfoy?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing, and Harry is increasingly upset about his mother's captivity."

"I will try to find out from Cygnus's party if they know anything about Castle Draconis," Tom said. "But Potter should accept that this will be difficult."

"Tom, he is worried that his mother will incur an unbreakable curse from being forced to handle unicorn blood," Hermione said. "Imagine how you would feel if that were your mother."

Tom was silent for a moment. "I understand. She is a priority, and I will make sure Potter knows that. Still, Lestrange is still the one who handles that for now."

"And unless your plans have changed, we intend to use the basilisk to kill Lestrange soon."

"She is a priority," he repeated. "I do not want that to happen to her either! But there's nothing I can do about it right now. We are doing everything we can. Perhaps Potter should learn how to transform into an animal, like his wretched father and godfather, and sneak into the Malfoys' castle! Apparently Pettigrew did that to us." He rubbed his forehead again, feeling a headache coming on. "I wish he hadn't been killed now," he admitted grudgingly. "I spoke in jest, but that would actually be a good idea for someone whose Animagus form was small and unobtrusive. He could have been useful."

Hermione could tell that he was tired and upset. A great deal of responsibility now rested on his shoulders, even if he did share it with her and with Severus. His mother was alive but in a deathly sleep, so he could not even have the closure that came from mourning, as Hermione herself was gradually acquiring. And only about a week ago, he had performed a dark and grievous act out of a sense of duty.

She wanted to comfort him physically, to take him in her arms and shower affection and intimate caresses on him, but the sun still hung in the sky—albeit low—and he had to greet their guests, preside at the dinner table in the grand dining hall for the guests' sake, and answer Lord Cygnus's letter. Tonight, she thought.


"You were very authoritative tonight," Hermione murmured to him as he climbed on their bed next to her. "Very lordly before all of the allies at dinner."

He slipped off his outer robe and gazed at her. She had already removed hers and was garbed only in the loose dressing gown that she wore in the warm months. "I have to be," he said. "They look upon me and see an untested youth otherwise."

"No one should think that of you now."

"Or you."

They were in each other's arms in the next moment, embracing tightly as they tugged on the remaining clothing. Hermione's dressing gown found its way to the foot of the bed, though it did not fall through the drapes. In return she reached for Tom's inner robe, pulled it off his arms, and tossed it next to her clothing. The locket dangled between her breasts. His gaze was arrested for a moment as he looked upon it. She noticed that he was staring at the object and lifted it to her lips, placing a light but solemn kiss on it. Even in that brief moment, she realized that she could sense the appreciation of the part of him in the locket. It was strange and upsetting if she thought too hard about it. Tom's affections were not divided in the common sense of the term, so this should not be happening either. It was sad and wrong for there to be a part of him that was separated from the sensations that his corporeal self experienced in moments like this.

Hermione put it out of her mind. She was quite certain that he had some sort of link with it when he touched it, and it was around her neck. She felt his presence and even heard his voice in her head sometimes when she had tactile contact with it. It wasn't isolated and alone.

With that thought, Hermione suddenly resolved to wear the locket under her robes when she followed him into battle. That way, no one would see it, but it would still be next to her.

They descended onto the mattress, Hermione's head sinking into the pillow. Tom placed kisses down her jaw, neck, and upper chest.

She threaded her fingers into his hair as he began to minister to her. "I wanted to be the one to tend to you," she said, feebly protesting.

He looked up, meeting her eyes. "There will be plenty of time for us to take care of each other's needs tonight," he said. "I missed you. I missed this."

"I missed you too, and you looked so exhausted earlier…."

"I'm not too exhausted to offer my affections to you." To prove his words, he placed his lips on her taut belly, kissing her while he drew circles around her nipples with his fingers. "When I see you… this is why I am doing everything." He kissed her abdomen again, then gazed up at her. "We were always meant for each other, and not just by our parents, but… by fate. By magic itself. You have always been my future, and together we hold the future of our people and our country." He moved up her body, covering her, pressing himself against her from head to toe, their legs intertwining.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his back and her legs around his waist. "I just wish I could offer the proof that I can provide that future."

He understood her. "You will someday, when the time is right. The fact that you're not with child now means that you are supposed to be near me in the war, just as you wanted, and that means that our fates are linked. We will continue the line after we have achieved this first great goal." He leaned in to give her a kiss as he positioned himself at her core.

Hermione did not generally believe in Divination, signs, portents, and fate to the extent that he did, but she hoped he was right. In that tender, intimate moment, she did believe him.

She gasped in pleasure, and her thoughts fled from such musings at once as they joined. They moved together, hearts racing, heated bodies growing damp with sweat, until they found their satisfaction together and collapsed as one. He exhaled heavily, his breath hot against her ear, as he slid off her, but he remained pressed closely against her all night long.


Cygnus and Druella Black did not waste any time in coming to Parselhall. They made their appearance the very next day, Caractacus Burke following obediently behind them as they approached the high seat of Parselhall to swear loyalty and allegiance. Regulus and his family were still there, and Tom had deemed it advisable to bring them out for this little ceremony. It was a good move; Cygnus and Druella were pleased to see the respect accorded to their daughter and her family.

Burke hovered behind them, taking his oath after the higher-status pair had done so. He eyed the hem of Tom's robe, clearly wanting to raise his gaze, but not daring to.

"Burke," Tom said, his voice cool and sharp, "you must know that I require evidence of your good faith, given your history. Look into my eyes at once."

Burke gulped, realizing suddenly what the young lord was capable of doing and what he intended, but he obeyed without question. Tom locked eyes with him.

"Your lord implied that you have a great deal of information about Lord Malfoy and Lord Lestrange," Tom said. "I see that this is true. Did you happen to know that Lord Malfoy has made himself deathless?"

"I suspected it," Burke said. "I was quite certain I saw his eyes turn red once. I never encountered the item, though—and I would have known it if I had. With all due respect, your lordship, when I was a lowly shopkeeper, I handled all manner of cursed objects."

"Naturally. That is unfortunate, but not surprising. Even Amycus Carrow did not know what the Horcrux is. We hope that Lestrange does. In any case," he said, "I am also curious if you know anything about Malfoy or Lestrange's castles… or the castle of Lucius Malfoy."

"Malfoy Manor is as impregnable as your lordship's fine castle," Burke said regretfully. "Castle Draconis, where Lord Lucius and his family live, has a secret entrance, but it has a Malfoy blood ward on it now. It was designed by your ancestor Slytherin, though—since the castle used to belong to Slytherin's great friend—and so it may be that there is still an older blood ward that would let you in."

"But you don't know that?"

"I'm afraid not, my lord. Now, as for Castle l'Etrange…." He racked his brains for memories. "He has a set of passwords, but he changes them frequently. At least, he did."

Tom was disappointed. "Yes, we interrogated Carrow and acquired the most recent ones that Carrow knew. Is that it?"

Burke leaned forward conspiratorially. "Carrow might have had noble blood, but he was not a smart man," he said. "He never knew that there was another method, which bypassed the passwords. But in fairness to him, I don't think that even Lestrange himself knew it."

Tom was staring fiercely into Burke's eyes, hanging on every word. His face told Hermione that Burke was telling the truth.

"It isn't a blood ward," Burke said. "Lestrange's wife—well, former wife now—was born into the noble Black family, as you know. My late aunt Belvina was also a Black, and it was through her and my uncle Herbert Burke that I learned of this family story. There was a pair of heavy wardrobes, which look to anyone like ordinary furniture, but they provide a passage between two points. You step in one—it does not even matter which one—and say the password, and the magic takes you to the other side. Lady Bellatrix took one with her when she married Lestrange." He paused theatrically, relishing this. "As I learned when I took refuge with my noble kin, they have the second."


End Notes: Yes, they're THOSE cabinets. I think there just about has to be a Black family connection in canon, since both Borgin and Draco know about them, and Borgin's late business partner was Burke, and their common thread is the Black family. Otherwise it's just too much coincidence for me to swallow.