Chapter 16 : Hogwarts Great Hall – April 2nd, 1944

Tom leaned his elbows forward on one of the Slytherin tables in the great hall, dinner had just passed and with OWLs and NEWTs fast approaching for respective fifth and seventh years, the hall was being utilized as study space. He was attempting to come up with a cohesive study guide but was currently failing miserably, there were simply too many things on his mind at the moment. As it was, the semester was moving far faster than he could come up with solutions to the many problems he was dealing with presently.

He felt Kaa dart her tongue across his clavicle from under his robes, and he was once again thankful that she was still small enough to fit there. He'd had to keep her hidden since returning from break, as snakes were not on the approved list of pets, and even as head boy, he was not exempt from that rule. His small familiar brought him to think of his first, and objectively his biggest problem that needed to be resolved by the semester's end: The basilisk.

She was still awake, but Tom was unsure of whether he should put her back to sleep, or create/find an entrance to the Forbidden Forest through the Chamber of Secrets that would allow her to hunt when his time in Hogwarts was done. Her mission was to rid the school of filth, that being muggles and muggleborns, but if he ordered her to stay her wrath, would she obey even when he was gone? It was something that certainly needed more thought because if she attacked, and he'd already taken the Slytherin seat, she could potentially undo all of his hard work because he would immediately be seen as responsible. Perhaps it was for the best to put the beast to sleep, at least until he was powerful enough to be untouched by the opposition, because hopefully by then, there would be no opposition.

Speaking of opposition, everything was prepared for him as soon as he left Hogwarts. He had acquired one of the two offered interviews of the Department of Mysteries. Only two a year were given the chance to go through a rigorous series of interviews needed to become an unpaid intern in the department, and it was only after two years as an intern, that one needed to pass a series of examinations to become an Unspeakable. It was a career Tom wanted, badly, almost as much as he had once wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. All that knowledge of magic at his fingertips, the things he could accomplish were astronomical.

He had dear Helen to thank for that, his position within the Riddle family gave him plenty to live off of without giving up his future to make a living. Had he'd still been at Wool's, he would have had to find meagre work to pay for a flat, as at eighteen, all orphans left Wool's, whether they had somewhere to go, or not. He'd originally planned to work at Borgin & Burkes, using the opportunity to find dark objects he could use for his power grab, and relics for his Horcruxes, as it was unsure if there really was any gold in the Slytherin vaults once he'd obtained the lordship and seat.

On top of the interviews, he'd also managed to convince Orion's father, Lord Regulus Black to allow him to train under him as an apprentice to learn the Wizengamot from an inside source. He would shadow the wizard through caucus meetings while using his time there to gather further support for his ascension as Lord Slytherin, which therein reminded him of yet another problem, though this one was far on his list of worries, currently, it was that: once he'd taken the founder's seat, he'd be pressured to take a bride from one of the supporting families, something that he didn't necessarily have to do, nor want to do, but would feel the pressure of, all the same.

He glanced around him at his knights seated around him, Thoros and Abraxas had no female relatives to shuck his way, mercifully. Evan and Frederick both had younger sisters, both fortunately under the age of five and therefore out of the question. Graham had a sister that was already married and Terence was an only child, and he was hardly about to consider a Flint, not even if he was the most desperate wizard alive. That left Antonin, who had no actual direct family in the UK, and the Blacks.

There was Bella beside him, who had her delusions of becoming Lady Slytherin, loathe as he was to admit it, she would make a fine one; and then Orion's younger sister, Carina Black, who was a fifth year. He wasn't too worried about being asked to marry her, as he was quite certain of her lack of attraction to wizards, as she was currently courting Nia Shacklebolt, the younger sister to both his classmate Jaismine, and Professor Chidi Shacklebolt.

He glanced discreetly at Bella, she was becoming a problem, she'd recently had been finding herself in his bed more often than not, and the attention he'd apparently been showering her with has given her delusions of being in some type of relationship with him, going so far as to snipe at other girls who showed interest. Of course, he recognized that being a teenager, a willing shag was a willing shag, the fact that she was delaying the confirmation on her engagement was simply asking for trouble. He could not have one of his main knights shamed in the pureblood sphere for declining an engagement with a name as notable as Lestrange, not even the Black name could shield her completely, especially considering there was a Lestrange cousin in Grindelwald's inner circle, regardless of claims that from War General Theseus Scamander that she's been imperiused. They were a powerful family, and Bella's reputation was on the line, he would speak to her about unfortunately putting an end to their shenanigans.

His apparent future celibacy by driving Bella away couldn't have possibly come at a worse time, really, not when the object of his actual desire was doing her level best to run him to the point of apoplectic rage. He glanced up towards one of the Gryffindor tables to find her leaning against the Weasley oaf, going over notes together. He gripped his quill almost snapping it, before forcing down a scowl and looking back down at his pathetic study schedule, easing his grip on the delicate feather.

She'd begun courting the fool right under his nose during the winter hols, and he hadn't been made aware until on the platform preparing to head back for second term. Tom loathed it with every fibre of his being and had every intention of taking care of it soon. If anybody asked, Tom never pegged himself as a love-sick fool, especially in this instance, as he was positive that what he felt was not love.

It was a greedy beast in his chest that never seemed to be satisfied with the crumbs of her attention that he'd been feeding it. He'd been attempting to make himself into a sympathetic support in her life in the last couple of months, his discussion with Helen informative to how he should conduct himself to lure her to him.

He had even gone so far as to ease attacks on the muggleborns for the time being from Slytherins, as well, since the winter holiday he'd stuck to his conviction to help her with Magical Law, he'd been too pleased with the news of her internship with Euphemia Potter to not use the opportunity, the internship became a guarantee of her continued presence in the UK. He met with her every Wednesday to study Magical Law with her to ensure she not only write her NEWT on time without the help of the class but that she gained the O needed to secure said internship.

He'd come to the realization a while ago that what he felt was far more than lust, it felt of a need to have her close to him in every capacity. He'd also come to the conclusion that it was not love, either, because it did not stem itself in an intrinsic need to see her happy, healthy and whole. If it had been that, then he'd have allowed her to continue her relationship with Weasley.

He was sure Ronald Weasley was an upstanding bloke that could potentially make an honest woman out of Hermione Granger-Riddle, however, unfortunately for Ronald, that did not work for Tom in the slightest.

He was broken from his reverie to see Hermione gathering her books and bags before making off out of the hall. Tom looked at his watch, which had been his seventeenth birthday gift from Abraxas, to see that it was eight-thirty in the evening, and guessed that she was probably on her way to detention with Dumbledore.

Her little stunt against McLaggen had both positive and negative outcomes, the negative being that the boy had been healed of Hermione's hexes by Dumbledore himself, and a whopping three-month detention had been served to Hermione. The positives being that she wasn't criminally charged for the attack, like the McLaggen family had been braying for, and most deliciously, was that McLaggen hadn't been healed fast enough, word had gotten around at the speed of a lumos, causing fourteen girls to come forward with stories of assault at the hands of the boy. He'd been ultimately expelled from Hogwarts and was currently fighting a slew of legal battles from a few of the victims who decided to go the legal route of getting even. All in all, this caused Hermione to attend all of her detentions gladly and with her head held high, and had gained her a rather vicious reputation, for a muggleborn.

He refocused on his study guide, finally making some headway with it. Curfew had been extended for the last three months of the term for those who were studying for international examinations. Tom was taking three additional NEWTs as a self-study, on top of his classes, if he got an O in all of them, he would have the highest scores in the country. He hadn't taken the classes for Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, or Divination, finding those courses to be easiest to thestral-shit his way to an O, as one: he lived with muggles, two: In the Care exam there were no actual live creatures to deal with during the NEWT, it was all theoretical, and three: with Divination, you either had the gift or you didn't, everything else was guessing.

It was almost ten at night when he noticed Weasley begin to pack his things, and make to leave alone, perhaps to pick up Hermione from her detention like the dutiful boyfriend he was. He grounded his teeth and was struck with an idea, he quickly gathered his things and bid his knights that he would see them later in the common room, before following Weasley out into the hall. He disillusioned himself as soon as he cleared the doors, ensuring that there were no witnesses to what he was about to do.

He followed him up to the fourth floor, with the hall empty of any soul, that Tom took the opportunity to strike. He gathered his magic and focus before angling a whispered Imperio at the redhead. Once he was sure he was not about to be fought off, he willed the boy to walk into the nearest empty classroom. He would have to work fast and with a delicate hand, else wise, someone was either bound to come looking for him, as well, a badly implemented imperius curse was easy to recognize, making his interference useless in the end. He followed the boy into the classroom, observing him all the while, he thought vaguely that Weasley was not a bad looking bloke, Hermione could have certainly done worse.

He was as tall as Tom himself was, with a broad frame and large hands, hands that he'd wondered, before he could stop, if they'd had ever touched Hermione intimately. Acid flushed his gut at the thought, and he willed that particular image away, continuing to scrutinize the boy in front of him. His red hair was long and braided to his shoulder, and his (currently dull imperiused) eyes were a cornflower blue. He had a straight nose and generous mouth that hid straight teeth, he'd even go as far as to call him a farm-boy type of handsome. He raised his wand gently, and began to whisper, instructing the imperius to do his bidding.

"You will go about your days as you always do, you will let absolutely nobody know that anything is wrong," he began, taking a deep breath, "In two weeks from this day, you will break your romantic and sexual relationship with Hermione Granger-Riddle. You think that it will not work out and that you wish to focus on yourself without distractions. Your future is very important, after all, it is okay to want to be certain of your aspirations," he paused for a moment, he needed to make this as believable and realistic as possible, else wise, no one least of all Hermione would deign to believe it, he needed nobody to suspect foul play.

"You will wish to continue to remain friends with Hermione, but simply have no desire for more. If anybody asks, you will state your reasons as you know them," he finished, letting the imperius sink into every nerve and train of thought the boy had. Tom watched, still disillusioned, as his shoulders relaxed and he sighed, he instantly had his wand up once more before Weasley could take in his surroundings.

"Obliviate."

He would remember nothing of the last five minutes, of coming in here at all. He watched as the other boy walked out of the room and smiled, that was another problem taken care of. Tom proceeded to cast a series of harmless spells to bury the use of the unforgivable and memory charm from his wand's recording and proceeded to head down to the Slytherin common room, perhaps he would allow more of Bella's delusions for tonight.

Hogwarts Library – April 19th, 1944

Hermione glanced up from her copy of Magical Rights of Wizards and Beings, she closed her eyes and put her head in her hands, trying to absorb the last twenty pages she'd read. It was a Wednesday, so she was with Tom in the library, both studying for their Magical Law NEWT, which she would be writing via self-study with the rest of the class in June.

Recently she'd thrown herself once again into her studies when Ron had broken up with her earlier this week. She understood his reasons, she did, but she just couldn't help that it still hurt. She thought back to the day, she'd been more or less in shock and hadn't replied with anything other than an 'oh' and 'okay'. What was she supposed to say? No? No, you cannot break up with me? She wasn't that type of person.

He'd told her it hadn't been her fault, but she could not help but think that it was, her insecurities running through her brain like a crup chasing its tails. Was she not pretty enough? Laidback enough? Was it because she was too focused on school? Did she talk too much? Not talk enough?

Was it because she was muggleborn?

She knew rationally that Ron didn't care for any of that, he had liked her the way she was, but the emotional side of her simply could not let it go and move on, it kept trying to find a fault in her that drove him away. She vaguely heard the sound of a textbook closing but ignored it, grounding the heels of her palms into her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and pulled her head out of her hands and looked across the table at Tom, it took her a second to register what he'd asked.

"Oh nothing, just tired," she responded, looking back down at her textbook, fluffing her hair out of her face. She hadn't had the energy to even twist her hair when she washed it yesterday, so it was now in its natural afro-like state, with her natural curl pattern. As soon as classes ended for the day, she'd taken off her school hat and shoved it in her bag as it refused to cooperate with her hair unless it was plaited or braided.

He leaned back in his seat and she just knew he wasn't going to drop it.

"I have a lot on my mind right now," tapping her nail rhythmically against the table, she went back to reading. She wanted to get through at least another three chapters today.

"Mm, is it because you broke up with Weasley? Or was that just a rumour?" he asked, a cruel type of amusement curling the corner of his lip up.

"That isn't any of your business," she clipped, gripping her fist tightly, she wondered if leaving would deescalate the situation she was in. When Tom was in a cruel mood there was no stopping him, she just wished it wasn't directed at her this time.

"You seem awfully defensive, or did he break up with you?" he asked, tone light, but she could tell he was just trying to get a rise out of her. She bit her cheek and attempted to ignore him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he was getting to her. Those invasive self-conscious thoughts had come back stronger than ever.

"I'm not surprised, the Weasley's are a pureblood family, one of the oldest ones, you shouldn't let it bother you that he wouldn't have any intention of taking your relationship further, it's just the way things are with these types of families," his tone was pensive, but it had done the trick. Hermione slammed her book shut and got out of seat abruptly, she grabbed her things and went to return the text from the shelf she got it from, eyes burning, ignoring that Tom was calling her name.

"Hermione," he called again, as she slid the book onto the shelf, his hand came to gently wrap itself around her wrist. She grabbed his own wrist to try and wrench herself free, trying to walk around him. His grip tightening, he studied the snake bangle she was still wearing.

He stepped in front of her, continuously blocking her path, causing her to become annoyed, she didn't want him to see that what he'd said was exactly one of the thoughts in her head. She turned the other way, planning to wrench herself free and walk the other way, but he'd grabbed her other wrist as well, fury coiled in her stomach.

"Just leave me alone!" she snapped, trying to wrench herself free, the burning in her eyes had escalated to tears that kept escaping her down her face, she could taste the salt when she licked her bottom lip of it.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly, letting go of one of her wrists, this time pulling her into his arms. She stilled as he tucked her head and all her hair under his chin, she didn't know what to do, this was uncharted territory with him.

"I didn't mean for what I said to hurt you, please believe me," he continued, one arm was heavy across the back of her neck and shoulders, causing her to lay her head against his chest, and his other arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, his hand gripping her hip. Her own hands clenched at his robes for lack of anything better to do with them. She attempted to swallow the lump in her throat, turning her face inwards to his chest, wetting the front of his robes with the tears that were still wet on her cheeks.

"Yes, you did," she replied, "You're always saying things purposely to get a rise out of me, just stop lying," she mumbled, she could feel the rumble in his chest when he laughed.

"I say things to get a rise out of you because it's fun to debate and argue with you, but I never actually mean any harm, not to you," he responded.

'Not to you,' she heard that part but didn't understand what he meant.

'Why not me? He dislikes muggleborns, what makes me any different?' she voiced none of these questions, suddenly feeling drained. She sighed, suddenly wanting nothing more than to go to bed.

"Fine, whatever, can you let me go? I'm going to head back to Gryffindor tower now," a part of her thought he was comfortably warm, and the last hug she'd had been Ron before the breakup, but she dominated that thought it shoved into the deepest recesses of her mind.

She did not like hugging Tom, and Ron's weren't that great either, she didn't need anyone's embraces. He loosened his hold on her, and she stepped back slowly.

"For now," he joked, but when she looked up at him she almost got the impression that he wasn't.

She wiped the newer tear tracks from her face, adjusted her bag on her shoulder and without another word, she left. She moved fast through the shelves towards the stairs that would bring her down to the ground floor of the library, almost launching herself down them, her anxiety of being in libraries alone still strong to this day. It was as she got to the ground floor and made to turn around one of the shelves that she slammed into another person, a hand reaching out to grab the front of her robes before she could fall on her behind.

"I apologize, I wasn't looking where I was going," she rambled, looking up to find the Slytherin girl that shook her hand months ago.

'Shacklebolt,' her mind supplied but flushed when she couldn't recall her first name.

"Are you alright?" Shacklebolt asked, ignoring her reply.

"What?" Hermione was confused, was she alright? She hadn't fallen, though. The other girl nodded to her face.

"You look like you were crying, what? did Riddle do that?" she asked, and Hermione reached up to her face to still find some dampness along her jaw.

"Wait, how did you know I was with Tom?" she asked, momentarily confused.

"I always come to the library at this time, and you're usually with him so I just guessed," she shrugged, she had a Welsh accent, and combined with her slightly raspy, deep voice, Hermione found it quite pleasant to listen to.

"Right," she supposed that made sense, realizing the girl was still waiting on an answer to her question, "I'm alright, I just thought of something upsetting," she bit her lip before asking.

"What's your name anyhow? This may sound rude, but I only know your surname," the other girl blinked, her eye colour was so dark it was almost black, and Hermione noticed her eyelashes were quite long.

"Oh, right, that was impolite of me, I apologize," she held her hand out for her, looking sheepish for a moment.

"Jaismine Shacklebolt," she introduced herself, Hermione shook her hand and introduced herself in return.

"I suppose it would be rude if I didn't introduce myself in return, I'm Hermione Grange-Riddle."

"I know, The Great Slapper, is it?" she asked in a lightly teasing manner, Hermione groaned, slapping her hand over her face.

"I am never going to live that down," she cried, causing the other girl to laugh, as she brought a hand up to sweep her locs over her shoulder, they weren't tied back today, she minutely noticed.

"Dinner is soon, would you mind if I accompanied you to the great hall?" she asked, but Hermione shook her head, not quite ready to see anyone a Gryffindor quite yet, not after the meltdown she just had.

"No, it's okay, I had a big lunch, I was actually feeling tired, and was about to go back to Gryffindor Tower," she answered, sad for the potential loss of company.

"Alright, I'll walk you up until we hit the great hall then." turning to leave, not accepting no as an answer. Hermione almost rolled her eyes, exasperated with Slytherins and their need for control.

They chatted about a variety of things but ended up arguing halfway during their walk, on who their favourite muggle author was, Jaismine was stuck on Mary Shelley and H.P Lovecraft while Hermione was currently a fan of Jane Austen and Alexandre Dumas pere. Jaismine preferred the supernatural and the rather dark, occultist works, while Hermione loved romance, familial love, swashbuckling adventure and a pervading sense of justice. Though let it not be said that she didn't have a secret obsession for Agatha Christie works.

They'd slowed their walk so that what was regularly a five minute walk had become a fifteen minute one, and she was disappointed once they reached the great hall, though she said her goodbyes and continued her way to Gryffindor tower. Reaching her destination, she was in a better mood than she'd been all day, she wondered if she could potentially call Shacklebolt a new friend.

She recalled the last hour, Tom upsetting her, and then holding her while he apologized, his hand on her hip and arm around her waist, her face felt hot at the memory. She wanted to believe it was completely unintentional, but she'd come to learn that with Tom, almost everything he did was deliberate, so it left her confused.

'He doesn't think of me that way, there's no way, we're essentially related' she thought stubbornly, but she remembered what Romilda Vane had said, and all the times her mamie told her that their neighbour Cécile had like her because they were always pushing her around and pulling her braids.

'For now,' she recalled him saying, what did that mean? She laid in her bed, still in her robes and pressed her pillow to her face. Why was the memory of him holding her make her feel, well, hot? She was uncomfortable with the feeling, so she decided she needed a shower, a cold one at that.

It wasn't until later did she realize that she hadn't thought of her breakup once since leaving the library.

Library – Meanwhile

Back at the library, Tom watched her leave, the weight of her head on his chest present long after she was gone. That was the closest she'd ever been to him, conscious, that is. He knew that had anyone seen him embrace her, he'd have some explaining to do, but he hadn't been able to help himself. When he took hold of her wrist at first to see that she was wearing his gift, it had made him escalate the situation, going even further when he noticed her crying. He felt the beast in his chest purr in delight, he'd decided that that moment had been one of the perfect times to set himself up sympathetically. The need to restrain her against himself felt akin to when one viewed something adorable, instinct told them to squeeze whatever it was, and so he did.

He returned to the table and gathered his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made to leave the library for dinner. He was about to descend the stairs to the ground floor when he heard her voice and stilled, he quickly disillusioned himself and peered over the metal rail of the balcony, was she talking to...Shacklebolt?

'When did that happen?' he thought curiously, though it only took him a moment of watching to realize they were just meeting for the first time, and that nothing was actually going on, so he silenced his feet and continued his way down the stairs and out the library.

He found it disconcerting how easily she could derail his thoughts and actions, he would need to find a way to deal with that, perhaps it would get easier when she was in his control. He thought back to his strategy of getting Weasley to break up with her, he had admitted to himself that it had been a rash move at the time. He had been driven entirely by jealousy, an emotion he thought himself to be above, however, it had worked well in his favour. Tom thought holding the imperius so long would be tiring, but he hardly felt it at all, which was probably why it was so dangerous, he considered letting it go on for a couple of more months perhaps, at least until she was completely his.

He would have to be persistent if he wanted to keep himself in her favour, and he would have to appear auspicious to her surrounding influences as well. He thought briefly of Helen, since break she'd sent documents periodically for his signature, something big was being planned involving Britain in the muggle war, something that required an impressive amount of munitions. All these letters alluded to something, but told him nothing at the same time, he snorted, remembering that Helen was far too careful for that. It was clear she recognized the magical world as an unknown variable that could make or break attempts to end the muggle war.

He thought back to the wards placed on the manor, they had taken him an entire night to complete. He had apparated to and from the manor between Liverpool, Manchester, Leeds, and Sheffield, gathering a random homeless muggle from each to use for sacrifice. He'd charmed each of them asleep, and had placed each at a pre-prepared ritual circle on the cardinal points of the property, including the Gaunt Shack.

He'd made sure to cover his tracks, purchasing a second wand and ceremonial dagger in Knockturn Alley weeks earlier, and a handy little amulet borrowed from Antonin to scour his magical signature. He really loved the legal loopholes that ensured his continued innocence, despite the illegality of the wards he erected, so long as it hadn't been done with his wand, any other evidence, should anyone have bothered to investigate, would have been circumstantial, at best. That didn't, however, stop him from being cautious.

He'd slit the throat of each sacrifice after waking them up and immobilizing them, each life, blood and body had been consumed by their ritual circle, powering the wards, and leaving nary a spot of blood as evidence. The results had almost been instantaneous, as soon as the ritual had been completed and the wards were up, he felt every living thing in the manor at all times, as well as where they were, and the ward supplying names when there hadn't been knowledge of them before. Even once back at Hogwarts, he could feel everything, from the meetings Helen held in her office, to the lowest kitchen maid bustling in the pantry.

He entered the great hall and sat in the seat beside Abraxas, who perked up at the intrusion.

"I found something for you, for your sizable problem," he spoke lowly in Tom's ear, earning his attention.

"Show me back at the common room, well done," he replied, as the food appeared on the tables, he was pleased with the potential of another issue being resolved.

Dinner finished, and instead of using the time to study, he requested Abraxas and Bella specifically to follow him back to the common room. Once there, Abraxas took off to the dorms to retrieve whatever it was he had for Tom, in the meantime, he turned to Bella.

"Stop putting off your engagement to Rudolphous Lestrange," he spoke lowly, bringing a hand up to caress her jaw, as she angled her face up towards him.

"Okay," she replied, and Tom blinked briefly in surprise at her easy acceptance, prompting her to continue:

"I know you have no intention of marrying me, or anyone for that matter, I'm just having a little fun until the real world is upon us outside of this castle," she shrugged delicately, before standing on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

"You're sweet for worrying about my reputation though," she finished, with a sly smile, stepping back from him and straightening the collar of his robes, accidentally jostling Kaa, who hissed a mild complaint, before she turned to leave as Abraxas returned, leaving the two of them alone.

'Well, that was easier than I'd hoped,' he mused, tickled at Bella's audacity, if that was how it was then he had no problems obliging her if she continued to come to his bed.

He glanced at the book in Abraxas's hand before offering to take it, which the other boy gladly relinquished his hold on it. He flipped to the page marked with a silk string and read it carefully. It was a sleeping spell for any large beast with permanence up until being released by the mage who cast it, the illustration accompanied depicted a wizard and a dragon in the demonstration.

He smiled, this was perfect, looking back up at Abraxas, he brought his hand up to cup his cheek. If Tom was anything, it was an opportunist, and he was not above using the other boy's attraction to him for his own gain, so he brought his face closer and leaning down slightly, he kissed his jaw, causing Abraxas to let out a shuddering breath in response.

"You did very well, thank you, this will work excellently," he praised him, and he could almost see the obsession for himself shine in those blue eyes of his.

"Of course, anything for you," came his breathy reply. Tom cupped the back of Abraxas's neck and brought his forehead to his own.

"You are invaluable to me Abraxas, never forget that," he told him, keeping eye contact because it was true. It was his followers and supporters who would ultimately give him the power he craved, and in return, he didn't mind to give a little back, this was no different.

"I won't."