AN: Hey, everyone. I know it's been quite a while... I've had ideas, but between getting into law school, finishing my senior thesis, and traveling this summer, I've hardly been able to unscramble my brain to do what I need to do, let alone what I might want to do. This chapter is a bit short, but I hope you enjoy it. I look forward to hearing your theories!
Chapter 50 - Help
Hermione arrived back at St. Mungo's full of determination. She wouldn't let it end after everything that had happened. If she had to turn the whole of the British Isles upside-down to find Tom's Horcrux, she would. She hurried to Tom's room, even though she knew that it was unlikely his status had changed since she left.
A Healer was just leaving the room as Hermione arrived.
"How is he?" she asked without preamble.
"Still unconscious," the Healer responded after pausing a few seconds to recollect whom he was addressing, "but the seizures seem to have tapered off for the most part. He seems stable, but I cannot say anymore than that."
"Thank you." Hermione brushed past the Healer and went to Tom's bedside. She grasped his hand and stared down at his pale face. Hermione had always thought the idea of someone appearing angelic while sleeping was slightly ridiculous, but Tom, for all his misdeeds, came close. It would be easy to forget that he was in this state as a result of murder and the Dark Arts.
For a moment, Hermione doubted her decided course. This was the man who had been, or would be, responsible for the deaths of many of her dearest friends. Perhaps it would be better to just let him go, for her to make just one more sacrifice to ensure the survival of those who had not yet been born and who might never be born as a result of her actions. But for all that it might have been the most logical decision, Hermione could not let go of the chance that Tom had finally understood what he had done and become truly remorseful. Was it too much to ask that she be able to keep the person she loved most, after everything she had given up? No, it was not. Who was she to decide that he ought to die, before he was even guilty of most of his crimes, when she had the ability to save him? There was no prophecy decreeing that he need die.
Hermione laid her hand against his cheek, feeling the slight rasp of stubble on her palm. She leaned down and kissed his slightly dry lips, pushing away the thought that he could very well be dead the next time she saw him.
'I love you," she murmured next to his ear. Squaring her shoulders, she walked slowly from the room, mind spinning with plans for finding Tom's Horcrux.
At first, she was at a loss. Tom had never trusted anyone, even her, so how would any of his friends, or followers, more aptly, be able to help? But then, Lucius Malfoy had been entrusted with Voldemort's diary, so she supposed there could be a minuscule chance that one of the Knights might know something. Unfortunately, from what she could recall, Aulus Malfoy was the closest to Tom, or had been before he had taken offense at her relationship with Tom. It was unlikely that she could count on any assistance from him.
But she had some leverage. She Apparated back to her room and rushed across the hall to Minerva's room, hoping that she was in.
"Minerva," she called, banging on the door incessantly. The door flew open, revealing an irritated couple, slightly flushed.
"What?" her friend asked shortly.
Hermione dragged her eyes away from the unexpected sight of a Malfoy with hair in less than perfect order to look at her friend.
"I need your help, well, your's and Abraxas.' Tom is dying, and I don't know who else to ask," she pushed out.
"You need my help?" Abraxas questioned, a skeptical look on his face. "How could I possibly help-"
"Tom is dying?" Minerva interrupted. "How?"
"Promise me that you won't tell anyone about this," Hermione implored. "I don't want to use an Unbreakable Vow, but I need your promise."
Minerva looked at Abraxas for a moment, then answered. "You have it."
Hermione took a deep breath. "Tom is suffering from a side effect, I guess you could say, of making a Horcrux."
Abraxas raised an eyebrow, but Minerva just looked puzzled. "A what?"
Her fiance spoke before Hermione could. "Riddle split his soul to become immortal. It's a bit more complicated, of course, or else everyone would make them, but that is the salient point."
Hermione opened her mouth to add more to his explanation, namely, the bit about killing, but a look from Abraxas stopped her.
"So why is he dying if he's immortal?" Minerva asked.
"When you regret making the Horcrux, it will attempt to rejoin your soul. Unfortunately, it seems to require physical contact, and I don't know where the Horcrux is," Hermione said, glossing over the details. "I was hoping that Aulus might know, since he was closer to Tom than almost anyone else when they were at school."
"My brother might know, but I doubt that you will be able to get him to tell you anything," Abraxas interjected, a vicious scowl marring his face. "However, because he has been a constant irritant since leaving Hogwarts, I will aid you, though it goes against the family loyalty my father always preached. Not that I need much urging to disobey my dearly departed father."
A strange gleam appeared in the blond's eye when he mentioned Setheus Malfoy's death, but Hermione didn't care to think about the reason as long as he was willing to help her.
"How are you going to do that?" Hermione asked.
"Easily enough. I am head of the family, and if I choose, I can leave my brother starving in the hedgerows without a cent to his name, which would no longer be Malfoy."
Minerva's lips twitched in the direction of a smile. Apparently, the idea of her soon-to-be brother-in-law being exiled appealed to her.
"How soon can you talk to him?"
"Now, if you like. It is rather urgent, it seems, and if we inconvenience him, so much the better. He has been lazing around the Manor for the last month, despite my orders to find something with which to occupy himself."
Hermione gave his agreement, and Abraxas Apparated away to disable the wards and allow them to Floo into the Manor.
Just as Hermione had imagined, Malfoy Manor had all the charm of a mausoleum. A quick glance a Minerva was all that Hermione needed to know that her friend would waste no time in clearing out some of the less than tasteful décor.
Only moments after they stepped through the Floo, Abraxas appeared before them, grasping his brother's arm firmly. The younger Malfoy appeared to have become slightly more portly since graduation, and his slouch did nothing to compensate for it.
Aulus aimed a petulent sneer at Minerva, which morphed into a glare of hatred when he caught sight of Hermione. His lips drew together as if to spit, but the fingers on his arm tightened.
"Mrs. Riddle is here to ask you some questions, brother. You would do well to answer without any... coaxing," Abraxas cautioned him.
"I won't say anything to the Mudblood," he snarled. "It's an insult to our heritage that you even let her into our home."
"If you continue in this manner, this may very well cease to be your home. I will give you one more chance. I shouldn't need to remind you of what Father always kept in the top drawer of his desk, I hope."
Aulus quailed slightly, but his expression was still far from accommodating. Abraxas nodded at Hermioned.
"I need to know if Tom ever showed or gave a diary to you," she began.
"Why do you need to know?" he retorted.
"Tom will die if I don't find it."
"Good, he deserves it, the rotten blood traitor. I only wish he would take you with him, you filthy Mudblood bitch."
Abraxas Silenced his brother with a wave of his wand. "Perhaps it would be better for me to question my brother without an audience. I shall return shortly." The brothers disappeared with a crack, leaving Minerva and Hermione to their own devices.
"You are really marrying him?" Hermione asked.
"Like you should talk, Hermione, but yes, I am. You may not believe me, but it's nice not to have to be in charge occasionally."
"I guess I just thought you would eventually end up with Philippe."
"So did I, but he just wasn't what I wanted permanently. I can respect Abraxas, even if I don't always agree with him. And he was willing to go against his father to marry me and has changed for me. A year ago, he would barely have spoken to you, but now, he''s siding with you against his own brother. Of course, he probably has some ulterior motive, but what Slytherin wouldn't? For my part, sticking it to that nasty little ferret would be reason enough."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at Minnie's apt description, earning her a quizzical look, but before her friend could make any further comment, Abraxas had reappeared before them, dragging his brother with him.
"Aulus has something he wishes to tell you," Abraxas directed at Hermione. Aulus favored her with a baleful glare, but said nothing until he was prodded by his brother.
"Go on, then. Don't make me remind you," Abraxas hissed, fingering his wand.
"I don't know where the bloody book is," the younger Malfoy spat out. "I threw it out after he started taking up with the likes of you."
"Where did you throw it?" Hermione interrogated, feeling no sympathy for the blond, who was obviously being forced to converse with her.
"I don't remember," Aulus replied. He turned to his brother. "Why are you bothering to help this Mudblood? Has your fiancee Imperio-ed you? Father would have disowned you for this, turning against your own brother for her."
"Happily, Father is dead, if you hadn't noticed, and I am the head of this house," Abraxas said coldly. "Answer her now."
"I threw it into the grate in the library at the house in London months ago. You'll find nothing but ashes," he taunted cruelly.
"You had better hope not," Hermione threatened, angered by his insults and cavalier attitude toward Tom's life.
"What will you do to me? Although you're a Mudblood, I might enjoy it," he leered.
A brief look of strain appeared on Abraxas' face and Aulus vanished. He exhaled heavily, turning to face Hermione. "I … apologize for my brother. I will of course speak with the House Elves at the townhouse about the diary and let you know what they tell me. Now, I would like to speak with my fiancee privately. You will be able to Apparate once you are outside."
"I'll see you later, Hermione," Minerva promised, stepping toward Abraxas, whose normally glacial eyes warmed as he looked at her.
No doubt reminding her about the favours she now owes him, Hermione thought as she made her way out of the manor. It was what Tom would have done.
Hermione waited anxiously through the evening. Minerva returned, but had nothing to tell her, other than that Abraxas had Floo-ed to the house in London shortly after Hermione had left Malfoy Manor.
She fell into a fitful sleep and awoke before dawn. As soon as visiting hours began, she made her way to St. Mungo's, although she knew that it was very unlikely that anything had changed.
Tom still lay on the bed, pale and unresponsive. Hermione took his hand and shuddered at the coolness of his skin. But for the thready pulse, it was as if he were already dead. She didn't stay long: Tom surely didn't recognise that she was there, and she didn't want to miss any communication from Abraxas or Minerva.
Immediately upon leaving the hospital, she was accosted by a regal-looking owl. She took the proffered parchment and opened it, breaking the green wax seal.
Mrs. Riddle,
Please come to Malfoy Manor as quickly as possible. It concerns your husband's diary. I do not wish to say more in a letter.
Your servant,
Abraxas Malfoy
Not wanting to waste any time, Hermione Apparated directly to the Manor. As she approached the front doors, they swung open. A House Elf was waiting for her and directed her to the library.
She quickly walked into the room, eyes searching for Abraxas.
"Petrificus Totalus," a voice said softly. Hermione felt her muscles locking up and she tipped forward. Only the slight turn of her head toward the voice prevented her from falling directly on her face. She was then Levitated over to a settee. The voice's owner walked over to her, carefully remaining out of her limited field of vision.
As the voice grew louder, Hermione couldn't help but recognize it. Forcing herself to resist his spell, she wrenched her head toward the owner of the voice and drew in a sharp breath.
Soundlessly, her lips formed the name of her assailant. "Tom."
