BANG!
Orphneus shrieked in surprise on his perch, wings spread open and feathers ruffled, while Hermione flinched out of her shocked stupor from staring at her son's now-locked door. Just in time to use herself as a shield against the marching dark lord whom she's obligated to call husband.
"Tom- stop," she managed to squeeze herself between the vexed wizard and the door. Her arms stretched long to push him as far as she could.
"Don't get in my way," he growled, and she could feel the reverberations from where her palms were pressed against his chest.
"Not when you have that look on your face that says you want to break down his door."
"I just might."
He placed a single step forward, uncaring about the contact of her ungloved hands fighting against his clothed chest in his one-track mind to confront his stubborn son. Whereas Hermione held back her squeak at how easily she skidded backwards in the face of his physical strength. Her travelling lifestyle and the lessons she learned from her previous life had successfully ingrained in her a discipline to be mindful of her body. Magic may have its many uses but it can't help her run faster, endure longer, and punch harder. Magic-folk who had grown too reliant on magic would never expect such a muggle retaliation during a fight. Even in her new life, she hadn't been a slouch either. Especially since there were times her prey would try to run or fight back during her hunts.
Summoning that strength, Hermione had managed to push Tom away just as her heel touched the door behind her. Her push wasn't strong enough to make him fall back but it was enough to make him take a step back.
"Please Tom," she started again. Retreating her hands from his hard chest but still keeping them up in a placating manner. As baffled as she was for this sudden turn of events (and how secretly amusing it was to see Voldemort being denied something), it's best to act as mediator. Especially to the most unpredictable of the two first. "Do you really believe Alduin will talk to you after you upset him?"
"Oh, he's upset?" he wasn't shouting yet but his voice was noticeably louder. "He's the one who raised his voice first and started spouting insults."
'Well, you did allow him to speak freely,' she bit her lip. To be honest, the brunette didn't like her son's… reaction either. Hogwarts may not be the most appealing name but an insult was still an insult to her second home. And it seemed that her husband shared the same sentiment. 'Still, knowing Alduin, he must've had valid reasons.'
"Nevertheless, now's not a good time to confront him about it and neither are you," she drew in a deep breath, "I think it's best for you two to cool off first."
She believed her suggestion was logical. Even though a petty side of her didn't care about appeasing Voldemort, Alduin's her greatest priority and she can't talk to him if there's a dark lord on a warpath to his room.
"I think you should leave."
The sneer that followed was more than enough to display his displeasure of her suggestion. Faster than her eyes could follow, Tom grabbed her face by her lower jaw. His fingers dug painfully into her cheeks as he loomed over her. A red haze stormed in the depths of his dark eyes. Delivering an unspoken promise quite clearly without the reinforcement of his magic. As much as he was magically capable, he had only been in the Den less than a handful of times and he knew better than to act with so many unknowns.
Yet his eyes held her whole.
"Watch your tongue, woman. I let you yap for the sake of the boy per our agreement but you have no right to tell me what to do," he hissed. His breath had a hint of mint, bereft of the meal he just ate.
He should've learned by now that she doesn't take well with threats.
"I'm not ordering you, Tom," her voice was calm despite the fire in her eyes that met his, "I'm asking you."
She wasn't cowing to his threat, but she really needed him to back off. Tom wasn't convinced however, and she fought to roll her eyes. Obviously, the man wasn't used to people defying him.
"I'll talk to him," she offered, "What you said definitely set him off, but I know Alduin. He must have his reasons."
He snorted, undermining their son's opinion on the matter. He humored, "And what makes you so sure?"
"Because I'm his mother."
It was a simple answer, but it carried a weight both of them felt.
The red haze in Tom's eyes disappeared almost instantly, but the intensity of his stare never left. As if it only took a different turn. One that she wasn't familiar of. She followed his gaze when it briefly fell to her lips, and that's when she realized part of her lower lip was kissing the length of his finger.
It shouldn't startle her. He was the one who grabbed her face after all. Still, a shiver ran up her spine as part of her couldn't help find it strangely intimate. Especially when she knew that the bit of rouge she lightly painted on her lips would leave a mark there.
Eventually Tom let go of her face, and she tried not to think about the butterfly's touch the tip of his finger lingered over her lower lip as he retreated his hand.
"Fine," he relented, expression still stern as he took a step back, "I'll be back tonight. That should be enough time for you to talk some sense into that son of yours."
"Oh so the moment he disagrees with you he becomes my son now?" came her snarky reply.
"It certainly answers where he gets his stubbornness from."
"To be fair, you did spring this on him without warning," she defended as she crossed her arms stubbornly, "We haven't even discussed about his education."
"Because it's not open for negotiation."
"But that goes against our contract!"
Her protest fell into deaf ears as Tom just walked away and saw himself out. Not bothering to give her anymore word on the matter. Even after she heard the door click shut, Hermione just stood there fuming at his audacity.
That… that infuriating man! But really, what did she expect?
A throb erupted at her temple, making her press two fingers to rub, hoping to quell that spot. She really needs to get that ring soon.
But first…
Hermione knocked on her son's door, making sure to lean her ear after calling out to him, "Alduin, it's me. Can you open up? I'd like to talk to you if that's alright."
She counted to ten but received no answer.
"Al?" she tried again and this time, tried the doorknob. It turned easily in her hand and she pushed it just slightly ajar. Taking notes from her parents when she herself had thrown a tantrum and retreated to her room as a little girl. "Sweetie, I'm coming in, alright?"
When she was a child, she would dive under her covers and wrap herself around it like a cocoon. An attempt to shut herself off from the world in her upset. Her mother would also be the first to talk her out of her shell, metaphorically speaking. However, when she entered her son's room, she saw no lump on the bed. In fact, everything was neat and in place as always. From the books arranged alphabetically and by subject, to the trinkets he gained as souvenirs from their many travels.
"Alduin?" she called out again yet silence only greeted her.
Then her eyes caught sight of another open door. Feeling her shoulders relax exponentially, Hermione approached her son's bathroom and first peeked inside. She first noticed clothes on the tiled floor just haphazardly strewn about, which only made her raise a brow in bewilderment than anger at such an untidy sight. She made sure to pick them up and dump them on the hamper as she made her way inside, specifically towards the pristine white tub full to the brim with water.
There she found her son, clad in nothing but swimming trunks, lying on his side at the bottom of the water-filled tub. His eyes were open and staring blankly at nothing, completely unbothered by the water. Tiny bubbles of air floated up to the surface but didn't care for it either with his innate ability to breathe underwater.
Yet another secret ability they shared.
Hermione pulled out a nearby stool and sat close to the tub.
"Al? Sweetie, can you please talk to me?" she coaxed, her voice gentle, knowing full well her son could hear her just as clearly.
It took a moment before Alduin moved. Hermione managed to avoid most of the water that splashed, but ultimately didn't care much for it, as her son's head broke the surface of the water. His curly locks were damped down and clung onto the sides of his face.
She couldn't help giggle at how water droplets cutely fell from his nose.
"Is he gone?" he asked.
"Yes, but he said he'll be back later tonight."
Alduin groaned loudly before diving back down underwater. It only made Hermione chuckle.
"This is the first time I've ever seen you act this way, Al. I'm not saying it's a bad thing but your reaction was definitely surprising."
That effectively raised her son's head out of the water again. This time, there was a noticeable pouty expression on his face. It wasn't the first time he was denied of something. While Hermione wouldn't second guess giving her son what he wanted most of the time to the point it resembled to, as most of her close associates called it, spoiling, she could freely deny him if needed. However, this was the first time Alduin became upset to the point of storming off.
"I guess I did act a bit rudely earlier… I'm sorry, mother," he passed a glance at the bathroom floor and noticed it was clear of his clothes, "and I'm sorry for the mess. I was going to pick them up later."
She shook her head, "Don't worry about it. But since we're on the topic- do you want to talk about it?"
Alduin didn't answer immediately. Instead he moved to lay his arms over the tub's edge and prop his chin over it.
"Just so you know, we haven't really talked about your education. I know we mentioned it in passing before between the two of us, but honestly Tom never mentioned anything to me about the subject either."
"He can't just decide on something like that, can he?" he asked, looking up at her.
"No, he can't," she shook her head, "Still, that was quite a bit of an overreaction, don't you think? You're usually so calm about things. Do you… hate Hogwarts?"
His eyebrows knit together at the center, "It's not that I hate Hogwarts specifically… I just don't want to go to school."
Hermione felt a small weight lift from her shoulders. She prodded, "Why is that?"
Alduin motioned with his hand, "Well for starters, like I said- if I attend school, I would be subjected to their curriculum and that would mean I can't study what I want. You know I want to learn all forms of magic, mother."
She couldn't help internally wince at that. A lot of wizarding communities, especially the large ones like Europe, did their best to be black and white in their depiction of magic, and this reflected in their education system. Mahoutokoro, the wizarding school in Japan, was especially strict about the type of magic students delve into. To the point they even charmed their very uniforms to change color for everyone to know if they've touched the Dark Arts. Even Durmstrang, whom had the infamous reputation of teaching Dark Arts, had to teeter on a very fine line to appease not only their own, but international ministries as well. As a former Dark Arts professor of Durmstrang, Mrs. Reicher had been open about her gripes about the times she had to deal with the complaints regarding the school's curriculum. Especially since she's mostly at the center of fire for teaching the Dark Arts. Granted, Mrs. Reicher might not be someone Hermione would've wanted to associate with how open she was into using dark magic in her younger years, but Mrs. Reicher made a very valid point that while learning to defend against dark magic would be useful, being ignorant of it is also bad in the long run. Especially to those who were hoping to pursue a career in Curse Breaking or becoming an Auror, since they would be exposed to those kinds of magic the most. Similar to how one can't go into battle with just a shield and not knowing anything about the enemy. She also remembered fondly at how unapologetic Mrs. Reicher was for being a strict instructor. Her core principle with the Dark Arts being that it should be dealt with great discipline.
"Well, I can't say in confidence that I know what Hogwarts' curriculum is," she said honestly. She wasn't sure how different it was compared to when she studied in the 90's, "but even if they're not partial to some branches of magic, school is a place that offers more than just academics. I'm sure it's a good place to grant you many opportunities you wouldn't be able to have if you choose to remain homeschooled. Isn't that what you wanted too? To experience a lot of things in life?"
"Yeah… but…"
He trailed off, and Hermione filled in the next words, "But that's not the biggest reason you don't want to go to school, is it?"
She watched as he chewed on his bottom lip, taking his time to answer.
"Mother is right. I will be able to experience a lot of things if I attend school, and I am curious about what it's like, but…" Alduin casted his eyes down and said in a soft voice, "I don't want to be away from you."
Brown eyes widened at his admission. She never thought her son would experience something like separation anxiety. Her son grew up independent extremely fast that it actually concerned her more that he didn't even cry the first time she had to leave him to someone's care. "Al… I don't know how much you know, but going to school doesn't mean you'll be away forever. I'm sure there are breaks and vacations you can use to come home to."
He wasn't moved. Instead, it only made his head fall lower and more droplets of water fell from his hair as it casted a shadow over his eyes.
"Two weeks," he started, "They say students only have two weeks to celebrate the Christmas holiday- to go back home. Then there's Easter, which students aren't even allowed to go home despite having no classes."
Hermione's brows furrowed, unsure where he's getting at.
"Neither of those have a chance of falling on my birthday. So… if I go to school… I won't be able to watch the stars with you again… "
"Al…"
"I thought that wouldn't change even after you got married to him. So when father said I had to go to school, I just…" his small hands gripped the edge of the tub so hard till his knuckles turned white, "It was like he was taking me away from you. Mother… please don't go anywhere I can't follow."
Eth srast rea ym tsearget tuareser.
Cahe dna yvree liengs noe.
Nda now…
Re'oyu ptar fo ti.
Hermione enveloped her son in a tight embrace. She cared not for the water that wet her clothes, only for the boy in her arms who refused to look into her eyes so she wouldn't see his sadness.
"Oh my sweet boy," she whispered, planting a kiss on his wet mop of hair.
"I'm sorry, mother," he mumbled lowly, "I know it's a selfish reason but…"
"I know, love," she cooed, "I know full well how much the stars mean to you. I love the stars too."
Yma eth yvre srast nrowc oyu.
Hermione continued, "But didn't I promise we'd always see the stars together on your birthday? I'll never break that promise."
At this, her son finally looked up at her, his dark eyes shining, "Then does that mean you won't make me go to school?"
"You know I'll never force you to do anything you don't want," she poked his nose playfully, making him scrunch his face cutely, "But if I'm perfectly honest, I'm not entirely opposed to the idea of you going to school. Like I said, you'll be able to gain a lot of different experiences if you attend. You will be able to interact with a lot of people your age too- gain some friends of your own."
"I don't really need friends…"
"Don't say that," she chided lightly before heaving out a sigh, "You don't have to worry about my answer, Alduin. If you don't want to go to school, that's fine, but I don't think he'll give the same answer though."
Her son's expression twisted sourly, "Why does his opinion matter when he clearly didn't ask for mine?"
The brunette sighed exasperatedly, "Well, according to our contract, he has the right because he's your father. But you're also correct, Alduin. He shouldn't be allowed to make a decision on his own, especially if I have a say about it as well. But I'm curious, Al, how much do you know about wizarding schools?"
With the mood easing, Alduin waded in the tub till he settled himself in a comfortable position facing his mother, "I only know as much as the alumni told me. Some people are really proud of their Alma Mater. Like, while we were in America, there was this witch who told me how much she missed Ilvermorny's snakewood tree and how majestic it was as the leaves change with the seasons. There was also this wizard from Koldovstoretz, who boasted about his school's yearly racing competition using sleighs pulled by Inktailed Foxes."
"Well now how fascinating!" she beamed. Hermione never had the chance to learn about the other schools besides Durmstrang thanks to Mrs. Reicher. Whatever information she knew, she learned from other wizards and witches who were proud alumni from said schools just like her son. "Do you have a favorite among all of them?"
"Uagadou!" Alduin answered excitedly, making Hermione blink in surprise.
"Err… the one in Africa? Why is that?"
Her son raised his finger for each of his answers, "For one, it's in Africa so it'll be warmer there, it's built on and into a mountain, its location point is the highest among all of the schools- so that means I would be closest to the stars, their specialty is in astronomy and they encourage students to practice wandless magic and become animagi!"
"That's great, Al. Do you have a second favorite?" Hermione smiled at him indulgently, trust her son to list the climate at the top of his rubric. However, she may not have anything against other wizarding schools, she was hoping her son would at least mention Hogwarts in a positive light this time. He may not like the school's name but surely he'd also had his fill of proud alumni of her former school. Discounting the fact that both of his parents studied there.
"As a matter of fact, I do, mother. It's Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons! It's warm there in Southern France. The chateau, and its many gardens are said to be absolutely stunning. Not to mention the school have arts and languages as part of its core classes! No other wizarding school have that!"
Okay…
"Err… is there a third?"
At this, Alduin paused to ponder, "Well, Castelobruxo specializes in potions, and magical plants and animals."
Both of her mind and body didn't know how to properly express her reaction to her son's answers. On one hand, she was happy that her son was open in his opinions and appreciation of the other schools, but there was also a sinking feeling of disappointment that he didn't even so much as mention Hogwarts. Surely, he's heard of the majestic castle that withstood the test of time? What about its rich history? The black lake? and heck even the Hogwarts Express! But Hermione also knew she couldn't show it or even comment on it. After all, it wouldn't make sense for his mother to incline him to Hogwarts when she had been vague about where she learned magic. She also didn't want to risk Tom catching whiff of her attending Hogwarts as that would be an impossibility in this time.
Best to let him believe whatever hypothesis he had of her to avoid further complicating things as they already were.
"All of these are good points, sweetie, but if there's anything I know about Tom, he won't be going down without a fight," she said more to herself. Hermione also knew Tom wouldn't hesitate to use something underhanded to get what he wants either. Alas, another thing to watch out for when he gets back.
"Mother, may I ask- how well do you know father? From the way you speak, you seem to have a lot of preconceived notions of him but for father… it's like he doesn't know you at all."
Of course he doesn't. Because the first time they ever interacted in both her lives was that unexpected encounter in Borgin & Burkes.
"You don't have to worry about my relationship with him, Alduin. It's not something you should ever be concerned about. You just focus on yourself, alright?" she gave him a reassuring smile. Besides, it's not like either of them wanted more out of this contractual relationship. At least for her.
"Alright, mother," Alduin nodded in assent, yet unconvinced.
"On that note, I know it's a bit late to ask but I'm curious- what do you think of your new father, Al?"
"I think…" he hummed, looking up at the ceiling as he put a finger on his chin, "I think he's the kind of person who practices his evil laugh."
Their hearty laughter echoed loudly in that bathroom.
.
BANG
Hermione couldn't help slapping at her own forehead. At least the slam of her son's door wasn't as bad as the first time. Alduin didn't close it for storming out either. More likely in frustration at how his father didn't so much as budge an inch during his entire spiel.
Though to give credit where credit is due, Tom didn't interrupt Alduin once as he relayed all of the cons of him going to school. From pointing out how attending would more likely impede his growth and learning to why Hogwarts should not be the school of choice. It was a valiant effort. Truly. She could feel her son's confidence from how he stood alone. Unfortunately, it was a difficult sales pitch and Tom was one very difficult customer to convince.
For the last three days.
Hermione knew Tom wouldn't budge on this. He was the heir of Slytherin. That fact hadn't changed even in this new life of hers. And he was still proud of it. Now that he has a son, Alduin is the new de facto heir, and letting him enter Hogwarts would be the metaphorical equivalent of him passing the torch.
She knew all of this, had seen his true intention since he first mentioned Hogwarts.
But she couldn't say anything about it.
Both of them had the right to have a say on Alduin's education, but between the two of them, hers would have the weakest argument. She wasn't lying when she said she wouldn't be opposed to Alduin going to school just to grant him the experience. And while her concern of his wish to watch the stars on his birthday and feeding him were valid points, she can't say them either. She has absolutely no intention of revealing her son's condition.
The only hope she was currently clinging on to was the fact the magic of their contract was still intact. They both agreed, with a bit of reluctance on Tom's part, that neither of them were allowed to make demands of their son unless his safety was at risk. Unfortunately, the contract will not register Alduin's hunger bouts as a risk to his safety because, should he ever experience another instance, the people around him would be the one in danger. Not him.
Therefore, should neither Tom nor Hermione agree unanimously, the only way to turn the table would be to convince Alduin of their wish even if one of them is disagreeable. Hermione fought hard for that clause that her son gets the final word. So, while Hermione couldn't help her son with her argument, so long as Alduin remains stubborn in his refusal to attend school, Tom wouldn't be able to do anything.
Such was the beauty and tragedy of forming contracts enforced by Red Caps. Normally, those who violated would be met with a variety of punishments from sudden unexplained, incurable diseases, disability, a mockery of the Imperius Curse, or even death.
Normally.
They may as well be the first to make a contract overseen by Red Caps in each party, but that did not mean they were exempted from such consequences. If anything, it only forced them to be more cautious of their actions. Tom and Hermione acknowledged these risks. Too bad each of them had a pact with a Red Cap so neither couldn't get the upper hand.
Tom was also fully aware of this, which was why he couldn't openly declare Alduin going to Hogwarts no matter how much he wanted to. Therefore, the only path to take was to somehow convince him.
"What was your education growing up like?"
Hermione blinked out of her stupor at the sudden question. A moment of silence had blanketed over them when Tom dismissed Alduin to allow them to talk.
"Err…" she coughed into her fist to regain her composure, "Freely. For lack of a better term. I am sure my learning environment was different from yours, or for most people. I traveled a lot and I couldn't stay at one place for too long so I had to learn as much as I can."
He had once speculated that she grew up traveling, and it was best to give him a half-truth. She didn't need to lie that she didn't go to Hogwarts, and she can also truthfully confess that she did learn a lot more about magic during her travels.
Hermione couldn't afford to slip and needed to be careful with her words, especially with the way Tom's entire focus was on her again.
"So you agree with Alduin then."
"I agree that Alduin would learn far more while homeschooled," she turned to meet his gaze, "You tested him, didn't you? Alduin told me. Then you should be aware that he already knows more about magic than children his age."
"Yes," Tom cupped his chin, seemingly in thought, "All he's missing is a wand and he can already outperform his peers. Perhaps even those in second and third years."
"Oh I'm sure he can!" Hermione beamed. A wide smile breaking from her careful façade as pride filled her chest upon hearing Tom's acknowledgement of Alduin's capabilities.
Her cheer was only met with a pointed look and raised brow however, making Hermione fidget slightly back to a more composed position.
"You taught him all he knew, yes? What were they? Arithmancy, Runology, History?"
"They're one of the most basic subjects that didn't necessarily need a wand. Alduin grew too quickly out of his storybooks," she chuckled, remembering fondly the first time her son ditched said storybook and crawled into her lap to attempt to also read what she was reading. It was a book about carnivorous plants in Asia.
"And Astronomy? Potions?"
"Alduin loves the stars. I say that might be his favorite subject," she shrugged, "And I sometimes lose track of time whenever I brew. So I let him assist in preparing ingredients if it's safe. Of course, I never let him brew on his own. But Alduin did manage to brew a perfect wiggenweld potion when he was eight."
"Really now?" dark brows raised. A wand wasn't needed in creating that potion.
"Mmhm. I even had a bottle preserved as memorabilia." Hermione wasn't aware but she was smiling again. The direction of their conversation opened doors in her memory palace she happily looked into.
"And what of Herbology? Care for Magical Creatures?"
"We encountered a lot of things in our travels, and Al's very curious and eager to learn the world around him than he looks."
"The Dark Arts?"
"Only the most basics. I haven't taught him beyond recognition and the difference between transfiguration and spells for body modification."
"You introduced him to the Dark Arts…"
The slow drawl of his sentence was like a bomb had set off on her face. Hermione broke from her blissful trip down memory lane as she realized what she just revealed. And just when she said she had to be careful of her words…
Tom was looking at her, not with a careful regard, but with a glimmer in his eyes and a crinkle at the edges. He was sitting more relaxedly on his chair, his fingers interlaced as he rested his elbows on the armrests, and there was an amused smirk that tugged at one corner of his lips.
"I knew you had no qualms with dark magic, but…" he recalled to their fights, "to think you even intended to teach your own son."
"It's nothing like that!" Hermione exclaimed defensively, but Tom was nonplussed as he continued to look at her like a cat that had caught the canary, "It's best that he knew what he might encounter. And better he learned it from me, who can supervise and guide him properly, than risk him learning by himself or from someone else. Besides… magic isn't supposed to be as black and white anyway."
"Oh? What is it then?"
She caught herself from answering and instead shot him a glare, "What is with these questions? We've gotten off topic. We should be discussing about Alduin's education."
"Of course, of course, my apologies," Tom nodded almost condescendingly. But the glimmer and smirk didn't recede, "I just didn't expect this revelation."
"That's not a complaint, is it?" her eyes narrowed.
"Hardly," was his only answer followed by a show of teeth with his smile. She hated how charming it looked on his undeniably handsome face despite the less than innocent cause behind it.
"I believe I've answered your questions," Hermione huffed, "Ultimately, I'm on the fence. If Alduin likes to go, then I won't mind. But if he doesn't want to go to school, then that's perfectly fine for me as well."
"You do realize that going to school would grant you the time you needed to conduct your research."
"I'd never prioritize anything above my son."
There was a steely edge in her eyes. One of determination and unshakable will. One that effectively diluted Tom's earlier amusement.
"Your opinion has been noted," he said diplomatically but suddenly changed his stance as he rested his cheek on one palm, "So you believe a simple levitation charm can harm a person?"
"Of course. Raise an object high enough and then let gravity do the work. Let it hit headfirst if you're even merciful enough to end your target quicker."
His smirk returned, wider, and this time Hermione openly cursed at herself. But before she could redirect her ire at the wizard sitting opposite her, Tom suddenly asked.
"What are your plans this Halloween?" his face was serious. Bar of any teasing he had for her earlier.
Hermione wasn't sure what to make of how easy and quick he could shift from one behavior to another. Still, she didn't like how he had successfully caught her off guard through her son. She couldn't be helped looking fondly at those memories, but she needed to be more careful from now on. Under the security of the contract or no, she should still be careful of the man in front of her. after all, this Voldemort is a lot more cunning than the one in her own.
The brunette asked with narrowed eyes, "Why?"
Ironically, Hermione and Alduin had no special activity or tradition during Halloween. Nothing more than to prepare their table full to the brim with as much dishes they could to commemorate the season of harvest and bounty. Although her son had participated in Trick or Treating with muggle children before. Who was to stop them anyway?
Instead of answering, Tom took out a single envelope from the inner pocket of his suit. When it seemed that Hermione had no intention of accepting it from his hand, Tom placed it on the table between them, surprisingly without fanfare but a keen eye observing her actions.
Despite herself, Hermione's eyebrows raised the moment she read the name of the sender: Horace Eugene Flaccus Slughorn
"I suggest you wear something green."
"An ascot?" Alduin asked holding said fabric aloft in both hands. It was a deep emerald green with swirling silver patterns. At a glance, anyone could tell it was made from expensive material.
It matched Tom's own already tied around his neck.
"The first step of playing a game, Alduin, is you have to equip yourself properly," he said, "Now go on, you also need to put this pin on you."
His son stared at said pin in his hand. A green diamond held by the fangs of a silver snake's open mouth. Then the boy looked at his neck, before blinking down on the ascot in his hands.
"Err…" he uttered incoherently as he laid the cloth across the back of his neck. But that was the extent of it, it seemed. As Alduin started to fumble which side goes over which. Each time he looked up Tom's neck as if trying to decipher the instructions as he went along.
"Clearly you don't know how to tie one," Tom observed.
The boy defended, "I've only worn bow ties, and its not like I have to wear something so fancy while traveling."
"Of course," he said dryly, exhaling in exasperation. Tom motioned with his hand at his son, "Come here."
Obediently, Alduin approached as Tom knelt down on one knee. He first popped open the first two buttons of his shirt before tugging each end of the ascot in its proper length.
"It's almost the same as you would to a tie," the older Riddle said as he proceeded to do a four-in-hand knot. Once he was contented with the width, Tom tucked them inside his son's shirt. Making sure to leave the first button open before pinning the green diamond on the left lapel of his dress robe.
He never understood wizarding fashion beyond what was needed for him to look presentable. For all its intent and purposes to be unique, it still had a reminiscent style with mugglewear. Case in point, his and his son's would look like any black on black embroidered suit if not for the knee-length cloak.
"Mother!" Alduin exclaimed to the direction over his shoulder.
The witch wore as she was told. Her own dress robes were made of deep green material that clung her upper torso and hips appreciatively. Below her waist, it flared slightly around her as it pooled just by her heel-clad feet. And her wild mane was somewhat tame for once in long elegant waves
As a man, he could acknowledge the beauty of the opposite sex. He had long since accepted that (begrudgingly) if he had taken the witch to his bed ten years ago. The only thing that kept him from fully appreciating her assets, however, was the prominent color of gold on her person.
While the dress robe itself was predominantly green, there was a large golden embroidery of roses and butterflies, which would sometimes flap their wings, decorating her upper torso. At the hem were also faint golden patterns akin to flames billowing in nonexistent breeze. Admittedly, he had never seen such style before. And the artful design of the embroidery did further compliment the swell of her bosom, the dip of her waist, and the curve of her hips.
However, he couldn't help ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that her choice to wear gold over the green was something deliberate.
At least she wore the necklace he had given her already.
"Where did you get this?" she asked. Her eyes widened upon seeing the glimmering jewelry in its velvet box.
'From a loyal jeweler in the black market.' Was the truthful answer.
Tom's involvement in the wizarding black market was limited to the procurement of rare, and highly illegal, ingredients needed for his personal projects. As he preferred to conduct his business in the shadows of aboveground. However, during his time as a shop boy, tempting people to relinquish their treasures, Tom had developed an eye for jewelry. While he had no intention of being a jeweler himself, he learned that certain minerals and precious stones have inherent magic of their own. And the only people trained to invoke said magic are the jewelers and runesmiths of magic-kind.
Mr. Harsen Callisto was one such professional. While the techniques were phenomenal as they were passed down from master to apprentice, the business itself was complicated. It was not difficult for Lord Voldemort to become his saving grace, and his followers were more than happy to be associated with a rising brand of jewelries to decorate themselves with.
The old man was also wise enough to never question his benefactor whenever he needed his services. In fact, the jeweler was almost delighted to have the opportunity to gift his lord's wife his own work. Tom vaguely remembered how Mr. Callisto boasted of acquiring the main piece of the necklace from an infamous source.
Apparently, there was someone in the black market who caused a boom to involved jewelers with their method of paying with 'the highest quality gems one could ever find'.
Someone who shared his initials: LV
"From a friend who knew how much he owed," Tom answered instead.
"My mother looks so pretty, doesn't she, father?" Alduin asked, even nudging his side with his elbow when he didn't answer immediately.
Tom, however, was staring scathingly at Hermione as he caught her giving him an odd look. An expression he knew stemmed from having caught him dressing up their son. While the witch had proven herself to be an amicable business partner, he did not need any of her snark tonight. No, tonight is all about Alduin and how he would settle the boy's refusal to go to school once and for all.
"Yes, adequate," Tom answered. He passed a glance at the witch's wedding ring worn over her long white gloves before turning on his heel towards the door, "Let's go."
.
Gaining an invitation to Slughorn's yearly Halloween party was just as easy as Tom expected. Fortunately, his former professor had not changed over the years. He did not miss the way Slughorn looked at Alduin when they had literally bumped into each other at the Leaky Cauldron. And being the opportunistic man he believed himself to be, no doubt Horace Slughorn had already reserved a top spot for Alduin in his metaphorical shelf of collections. After some choice words and a generous gift of frozen pineapples, Slughorn's response couldn't have come to him any sooner.
If words weren't enough to convince his son, then perhaps the real deal would. Tom also figured it would be best that he showed Alduin what he needed to see himself.
What he didn't expect, however, was Hermione's compliance. Whereas he braced himself for the witch's resistance to the matter, the witch had been more than easily acceptable to the invitation despite the shakable veil of reluctance. Though he supposed, as someone homeschooled, the witch's eagerness to enter an actual school was understandable. At least between her and their son, one of them was appreciative of his Hogwarts.
The green flames from the Floo gave way immediately to the sight of bright colors and lively music. It seemed that the theme this year were trees. Dark, gnarly, bare, misshapen trees to be exact, holding up decoration and drapes as illusions of bats flew overhead.
Tom felt his chest swell at the familiar sight. It had been years, but his Hogwarts had not changed. The air and majesty he felt that tingled his bones felt like a welcome home. Of course he had intended to return at one point. He just didn't expect to do so with his makeshift family in tow.
He looked down at his son to his right. The boy was taking in all the sights with a bored expression. Meanwhile, the witch hanging on his arm to his left was more expressive of her wonder.
Which was not what he had imagined.
It should be Alduin who should be looking about in excitement. Not his mother.
Tom dropped his arm only to circle it around the witch's waist. Effectively breaking her out of her musings as he tugged her close to his side. Her hands instantly came up to his chest in an attempt to break free from his hold but stopped as Tom leaned over to hiss at her ear.
He tried to ignore the subtle yet pleasant whiff of her perfume as he whispered, "I trust you know what's expected of you tonight."
Predictably, she glared at him, "Of course I do."
"Then you know it's in your best interest to behave, wife," he added with a squeeze of her soft hip.
"I could say the same for you, husband," she replied dryly, making him snort.
Tom leaned back and resumed to holding his arm for her to hold onto, while with the other, placed it over his son's back just between the shoulder blades. "Then shall we greet the host?"
.
"TOM!"
The loud bellow of Tom's name was like someone had casted a sonorous spell. Thus earning more attention from the party-goers, both students and guests alike, to the small family making their way to the host.
And who would even dare to not stop and stare? Here was a tall, devastatingly handsome wizard with a gorgeous young witch on his arm, as well as a little, adorable, handsome boy who looked so much like the older wizard.
"Horace," Tom smiled his practiced pleasant smile as he stopped in his tracks to let the pudgy man meet them halfway.
"You finally arrived! It's so good to see you again!" the potions professor cheered as he clasped his former student's shoulders in lieu of a hug. Displaying just how absolutely delighted he was to see him.
"Thank you for having us, Horace. I realize how last minute it was."
"Not at all! As surprised as I was, I was more than happy to receive your letter!"
"I'm sure you were," Tom's lips tugged into a small grin before he directed the professor's attention to his family, "I'm sure you remember my son, Alduin."
As expected, his son knew to play his part and smiled politely at the grinning man, "It's a pleasure to see you again, sir. I hope you remembered me."
"Of course I do, Alduin m'boy! My, I dare say you've gotten taller the last time I saw you," Slughorn gave a hearty laugh as he shook his son's hand exuberantly, before turning between him and Tom, "My word, you really do look like your father."
Good.
Tom then gestured to his left, "And this lovely witch here is my wife. Hermione, this is-"
"Horace Slughorn," the witch cut in, unknowingly unintentional. He noticed the way she said his name carried a recognition akin to acquaintances who had not seen each other for a long time.
Slughorn, however, remained clueless, but the excited expression he wore became even more pronounced if possible.
"Ahh to think I finally had the chance to meet Tom's wife," the potions professor couldn't help opening his arms as he reveled at the opportunity.
This seemed to have broken her out of her momentary stupor as she held up her dress and curtsied the best she could while still holding onto his arm, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. My name is Hermione Jean Granger-Riddle."
Slughorn blinked numerously, "Granger-Riddle? You combined your names?"
Tom felt a nerve tick at his jaw but otherwise smiled and nodded his head naturally.
"My word…" Slughorn mumbled in bewilderment. But instantly in the next second, his wide eyes returned to excitement once more as he focused on his wife. "Are you perhaps related to Hector Dagworth-Granger?"
From the corner of his eye, Tom watched the witch keenly. From her slow blink to the way she chewed on her lower lip in reluctance.
Eventually, she lifted her head and smiled at Slughorn politely, "We try our best to spend at least an entire day every month. Thankfully, bringing his favorite treat always spares me from any scolding for lost time. It's the least I could do to repay him for taking care of me, after all."
Her answer wasn't direct but it still spoke volumes that forced Tom to fight off the triumphant smirk from cracking his polite façade.
Despite the vagueness, the witch still confirmed that yes, she did know Hector Dagworth-Granger. Yes, they have a close relationship. And most importantly- YES, she knew where the elusive potioneer-turned alchemist was. Now the only thing left to question was how close their relation was.
Slughorn, however, caught onto her affirmations as well and it was more than enough for him to put her in a positive light in his conclusions.
"Oh how absolutely wonderful! Do excuse my forwardness, my dear, but I just couldn't possibly contain myself! You were quite the mystery ever since I learned Tom had gotten himself a family. I have been meaning to meet you, and I'm just so grateful you came to my humble party. And to think, you're related to such an esteemed potioneer! I am a fan of his work, you know, and I'm proud to be part of his Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers myself! Ah! that reminds me- your boy had mentioned you were quite talented in potions yourself. Oh but of course you are! I expect nothing less from my star pupil to choose such a beautiful and talented wife!"
.
Alduin dropped his gaze from his parents being surrounded by a variety of guests to the glass of orange fluid in his hand.
"Not bad," he hummed in approval as he took another swig of his pumpkin juice.
After sensing the direction of where the conversation was going, Alduin successfully excused himself. Even though Mr. Slughorn displayed a bit of reluctance, he was still spared as it seemed that he was more interested on getting to know his mother. He had also caught his father give him a warning look but otherwise allowed him to go.
Of course, his destination was towards the large food table complete with a large chocolate fountain that changed between three flavors for per interval.
Alduin was content in just standing there eating and drinking as he observed the rest of the party. Paying no heed to the people whose eyes he could feel on him, nodding politely if their gazes met, but otherwise didn't bother initiating any conversation. He especially tried to ignore the music playing in the background. Pleasant it may be to normal ears but to him, it lacked a quality his high musical standard found vexing just for the mere fact that it was being played by charmed instruments.
They should've at least chosen a better song than this boring drivel.
As his finger plucked the last bat-designed tart on the tray, he felt a small presence pop from beside him. Alduin winked secretively and as usual, the invisible house-elf squeaked in surprise and showed its form for a brief second. The third flabbergasted elf, just like the ones before who immediately replaced any empty tray of food on the table, bowed their head at him deeply before popping away. In the meantime, Alduin chose to target a different tray of food this time; with everyone around him oblivious to how quickly he consumed right from under their noses.
He wasn't sure why his father brought him here, but he had a strong suspicion it was another ploy of his to convince him to go to school. In fact, he had every intention of refusing to go to this party, but then he saw that flicker of emotion on his mother's face. One he recognized very much whenever she talked about her friends and family who were no longer around.
He didn't understand why she would have that look in relation to Hogwarts. She wouldn't have gone to that school, or else she would've told him. But Alduin had a feeling that attending would make his mother happy. And he was correct.
She tried to hide it, but he could tell how excited his mother was after his father left as the days led up to this Halloween Party.
His mother hardly asked for anything that wasn't his safety and happiness. So for once, he would at least grant her this. Even though he didn't understand, it's nice to see his mother happy.
"Excuse me."
Alduin turned just as he refilled his glass for the nth time tonight. Standing at a polite distance in front of him were twin boys a couple of years older than him. He hadn't noticed any other children around his age.
"You're Alduin Riddle, right?" one of them asked, probably the eldest.
"Granger-Riddle," Alduin corrected, "And you are?"
"Ah, apologies. My name is Rodolphus Lestrange, and this is my brother Rabastan Lestrange. I believe you know of our cousin, Rowan Lestrange."
Alduin hummed in recognition as he put on his polite mask, "Of course I do. It's a pleasure to meet you, Rodolphus, Rabastan."
Alduin asked after they shook hands, "May I ask how Rowan is doing? I do hope he's faring well."
Rabastan raised a brow at him, "No need for that, Alduin. We may be older but there's no need to speak so formally to us."
"I appreciate it, Rabastan, but I couldn't possibly act so familiar with people whom I just met," he answered with a smile. The underlying message of observing caution in their familiarity was more directed for the twins than to Alduin himself.
"Err…" Rodolphus, having caught on, cleared his throat and smiled back pleasantly, "Well I suppose we should be grateful that you allow us to call you by your first name."
"Indeed. Not to mention it would be quite confusing if I refer to the both of you as Mr. Lestrange."
"Indeed it is!"
They laughed easily at this.
"But to answer your question, Rowan is doing just fine."
"He's only ever sung your praises, might I add."
"Oh?" Alduin quirked up a brow.
Rodolphus answered, "Excuse us but we are aware of the incident that happened on our cousin. As family, we are grateful for the assistance you and your mother provided for him. I just hope no such altercations would happen again in the future."
"You're very welcome. Though the incident was between me and Rowan, I'm glad that he seemed to have moved on from it. Hopefully he'd watch where he's flying the next time he's on a broom."
"There you two are!" someone cried before another boy arrived. He was much older than the Lestrange twins but also dressed in fine dress robes. He came from behind the twins and slung his arms over their shoulders in a familiar gesture, "I had wondered where you ran off to. How's your first attendance to Sluggy's party? Hmm? Who's this?"
The eldest boy cocked his head curiously at Alduin who only smiled back politely at the newcomer.
"You look… familiar," he said, hand rubbing his chin in thought. "I didn't think Slughorn would invite a first year… but I don't think I've seen you around. Which house are you in?"
"Corban!" Rodolphus cried, shrugging the older boy's arm over his shoulder. He gestured, "This is Alduin."
"Granger-Riddle," Rabastan finished.
"Riddle?" Corban frowned before his eyes widened in disbelief, "No way…"
Alduin kept his silence as he continued to watch Corban's expression in slight amusement. His eyebrows had risen as high as they could go, his eyes were as wide as saucers, his mouth was steadily lowering from its hinges, and his posture had become lax. Overall, he looked at Alduin as if he was a creature of myth-turned-reality.
"Corban Yaxley," he finally introduced with his hand out.
The youngest boy in the group stared at his offered hand for a moment before accepting it. His smile pleasant. "Pleasure, Mr. Yaxley."
Yaxley opened his mouth, intending to tell him to drop the honorifics, but Alduin interrupted him in time.
"May I ask, do you have a habit of suddenly interjecting yourself between people who are obviously in the middle of a conversation?"
"I… well- I…" Yaxley stuttered, having caught completely off-guard at the question from the ten-year-old boy.
And he wasn't the only one.
Rodolphus and Rabastan seemed to have caught on the venom hidden behind his words as well. Further reinforced by a steely glint in Alduin's bottomless eyes. It was an unsettling look in of itself. Even more so coming from a young boy who barely even started school yet.
"Alduin."
"Father," Alduin greeted over his shoulder as he sensed his father coming from behind.
"How are you enjoying the party, son?" he asked, lowing his head a bit to meet his equally dark eyes.
"The food has been wonderful, father," Alduin answered with a grin. The dangerous lilt he possessed just a second ago suddenly disappeared, "though I can't say the same for the music."
"Pity," his father then turned to the other boys, "And these are?"
"Corban Yaxley, sir!" the eldest boy stepped forward, hand already outstretched. His eyes were practically shining with admiration as he stared up at his father.
"Yaxley's boy," his father hummed after shaking Yaxley's hand once, "You are a prefect, aren't you? Graduating soon?"
"Yes, I am, sir. I'm in my sixth year so I still have a year to go," he answered, posture straight and proud if not a little flustered, just like how someone would act around an idol.
"I see. Well good luck. I'm certain your father expects greatly from you."
"Yes! I will do my best, sir."
His father nodded at Yaxley's beaming face before turning to the twins, "And you are?"
Both twins bowed their heads in perfect unison, "Lestrange, sir. My name is Rodolphus."
"And I am Rabastan, sir."
"Ahh I think your uncle mentioned you'd be here. How are you boys taking your first Slug Club party?"
"Very well, sir," Rabastan answered.
Rodolphus added, "Especially since we were able to make your son's acquaintance, sir."
"Is that right? Well, I'm grateful you boys kept my son company, but do you mind if I borrow my son for a while?"
It wasn't a question.
"Not at all, sir."
Just like that, the Lestrange twins and Yaxley excused themselves after an exchange of polite farewells.
"They're all students from the Slytherin House," his father said once the boys were far enough away, "Should you attend school, they will be your seniors, and many more would want to introduce themselves to you."
"Where's mother?" Alduin asked instead, dismissing his words as he looked up at him.
"Around," he answered curtly, a muscle on his jaw ticked in annoyance, "She'll be fine. She knows how to play the game. Now come, there's something I want you to see."
Curiosity piqued, Alduin followed after his father as they made their way towards a large set of double doors.
"Is it really alright for us to sneak off?"
"Don't worry about it."
To Alduin's amazement, none of the guests seemed to have noticed their departure. Soon he was following just behind his father as the elder Riddle led them through numerous corridors. Making turns around similarly-looking corners as if he was walking on a memory's footsteps. Or like a king exploring his castle- a castle he knew well like the back of his hand.
Every once and a while, he would notice his father glancing at him as if watching his reaction. Unfortunately for him, Alduin remained nonplussed.
Stone. Statue. Wall. Sconce. Armor. Window. Stone. Statue. Wall. Sconce. Armor. Window.
To the boy's eyes, there wasn't a single thing around him he found impressive. Not even the lingering magic within its very walls.
"Err… father, I don't think we should be here," Alduin said uncertainly after reading the sign nailed at the door.
His father, however, didn't seem to care as he leisurely entered the girl's lavatory, making sure to hold open the door for his son. He ordered, "Come."
Alduin shot him a dubious look but there wasn't a hint of mirth nor mischief on him. After making sure no one was on each side of the empty corridor, Alduin stepped inside the lavatory. His eyes instantly fell on the sinks grouped together in a circular pattern.
"Over here," his father called, stopping in front of one of the sinks.
Alduin stared at their reflections before lowering his eyes to the sink. The stains on the marble were indicative that it wasn't of use. He was about to question his sire but his eyes caught a curious shape engraved on the side of the faucet.
It was a snake.
"Open," his father spoke in parseltongue after ensuring he had seen the mark, and in the next second the sink began to move.
The sink itself sank, in a hollow place hidden on the stone floor. Until it showed a pipe large enough for a man to slide into.
"That looks unsanitary," Alduin commented as he stared down into the abyss, unafraid.
"Yes, we can't have your mother seeing your clothes stained, can we?" his father replied sarcastically but otherwise took out a wand. He made a couple swishing motions and a layer of magic surrounded both of them. "That should do. Now, after you, son."
Alduin cocked his head at him for a moment before a wide grin broke from his face.
"Don't mind if I do."
Then the boy willingly jumped into the darkness. His cheery 'Ya-hoo!' echoed up to the surface.
The further down Alduin went, the darker his surroundings became until he was completely swallowed by darkness he could no longer see his own hand. Yet he remained unafraid. Even as he steadied himself as his feet felt the bottom of the slide.
It wasn't long until he heard another set of two surfaces sliding towards him. His father landed gracefully on his feet with his wand aloft. A ball of light at the tip of his wand illuminated their surroundings and that's when Alduin noticed that the floor was covered in bones from various animals.
Alduin's eyes were wide in surprised amazement.
"Still as unpleasant as ever," his father commented, wrinkling his nose before gesturing for Alduin towards a corridor, "Follow me."
And follow he did. At the end of the corridor was a large door with two snakes interlocked in each other's coils. His father stopped in front of it, stepping to the side to allow him forward. Alduin obliged and observed the carved serpents hissing at each other. Each scale was expertly carved, down to the smallest details. It was a beautiful piece of art whose grandeur was preserved thanks to the magic placed on it even in the dark dampness of this sewer.
"Try it."
Alduin looked up at the older man. Under the light of his wand, he could clearly see his expectant look. It wasn't difficult for him to figure out what he meant.
Taking a step back, the boy stared at the entirety of the carved serpents before opening his mouth. He hissed, "Open."
There was a groan and the sound of stones grinding against stone. The carved serpents uncoiled from each other before the door opened by itself. It revealed to them a long stretch of stone path. At each of its sides were statues of snakes baring their fangs, looking as if they were rising from the dark waters that filled the rest of the large expanse.
"Now from here on out, I want you to- Alduin!"
He heard his father call for him but Alduin didn't stop. The second he saw the large head statue at the end of the path, Alduin broke off into a sprint. The splish-splash of his feet hitting the puddles of water bounced loudly against the walls.
Alduin stopped just before the stone path fell to another pool of water beneath the statue's mouth.
"Alduin!" he barely heard his father stop beside him. His tone uncensored with his annoyance. "You would do well to not run off on your own like that again."
He heard him.
But he wasn't listening.
The boy was too focused on staring at the statue.
Unaware how his pupils morphed into slits.
"It's Salazar!" Alduin exclaimed, his finger pointing at the statue with excitement.
Beside him, his father's annoyance faded at his son's recognition of their ancestor.
"Yes, he's Salazar Slytherin. You know of him? Did your mother tell you?"
Alduin grinned pleasantly, "Of course I know of him! He looks a lot older here though, but he was very polite."
"What?"
"Hm?"
"What did you just say?" his father was frowning at him now. His perfect brows wrinkled closely together in confusion.
When Alduin blinked back up at him, his eyes were as dark as the void. He parroted innocently, "What did I just say?"
"You said Slytherin was very… polite."
"Oh, yes… I think… I did… didn't I?" he felt his own face twist in confusion at his own words. One hand even came up to his head as he wondered their validity.
His father obviously wanted to press further, to confirm what he just said, but the sight of a large mass breaking the surface of the pool before them interrupted him. Followed by loud hisses, both father and son watched the majestic reveal of the ancient basilisk of Hogwarts.
Later, Alduin would learn that even though his father had commanded its slumber prior to his departure, the serpent would still wake every few decades to eat and shed its skin. Hence the ever-increasing pile of bones outside the chamber.
They were fortunate to have today as such occasion.
The basilisk hissed menacingly, but upon recognition of the intruders, it lowered its scaly, almost-draconic, head. Its eyes even closed in reverence.
"A thousand greetings. I bow before the Young Lord and Master. I thank that you have blessed me today with the return of your presences."
Alduin stared back at the legendary creature. He had seen a lot of other magical snakes; from Horned Serpents to Runespoors, but this was the first time he had ever seen a basilisk. Known for its extreme difficulty to be bred, if not for how dangerous it was.
Still, Alduin approached without a hint of fear. His hand was outstretched to touch the basilisk's lowered snout. He could feel his father's observant eyes watching him from behind.
"What's your name?" he asked in parseltongue.
"Shesha, my Young Lord," it answered.
"Shesha… you must've been very lonely…" Alduin lamented. He wasn't sure where it came from, but he felt his heart constrict in sadness for the creature before him. With his other hand, he cupped what he could of the serpent's giant maw as he approached and touched his forehead on its hard scales. His hands gently caressed the protruding scales. The boy didn't even so much as flinch when he met its deadly eyes.
"Father," he said after some time, turning his head towards the man who only watched him in silence as he greeted the basilisk like an old friend, "What is this place?"
With that, his father approached and placed his own black gloved hand on the giant serpent. When he knelt before him once more to meet his gaze, his usual black eyes were a deep crimson red.
"Our legacy."
.
Hermione breathed a sigh in relief.
Finally, she managed to get herself a breather. She did not expect to be crowded like that in her return to Hogwarts. She hadn't been close to Professor Slughorn in her previous life, and she never knew what became of him after they lost the war. But seeing such a familiar face, laughing and smiling so freely without a care in the world, sparked in her a feeling of relief, content, and happiness.
So much so she didn't even feel as disturbed as she should while pretending to be Tom's wife, nor Slughorn's exuberant interest in her as his star pupil's wife and someone related to a master potioneer.
She didn't mind at all.
Because she was lost.
As if Hogwarts itself had casted a spell on her the moment she stepped foot back inside the castle.
She was back.
She's in Hogwarts.
Hermione had returned home.
At one point, as the guests corralled her into their own conversations, she was separated from Riddle. Which was fine. Most of the guests were more interested in him anyway. As many recognized him as a powerful, well-connected wizard from so and so. Even though Slughorn was more interested in getting to know her, he wasn't shy to sing his former student's praises either.
But that vigilant side of her had reared its head.
A few minutes ago, she saw her son eating by the food table. Then he wasn't there. Tom had also disappeared as well.
Now, Hermione was staring at the firelit ceiling of a corridor. Having successfully excused herself to the loo. It was no coincidence those two suddenly disappeared. She needed to find them.
.
.
.
Nine steps.
Hermione only managed nine steps before her memories mixed with her reality.
.
.
.
It wouldn't hurt to explore a bit… right?
.
.
.
The smile on her face was wide as she took the time walking down the empty castle corridor. She recognized it as the second-floor of the castle.
Overwhelmed with nostalgia and longing, the doors in her memory palace opened, and this time- in this moment- she saw herself not as a war-hardened adult, nor a married woman, not even a mother.
No. right now she was a little girl. A little witch basking in the glory of Hogwarts' majesty. Wide-eyed, innocent, and eager to learn all of magic's secrets.
Her heart lurched as her fingers trailed over the stone wall as she went.
She choked as her mind brought back each memory.
How she missed this.
For every crack on the stone floor, every gentle carving on the wall, the orange hue of the fire's glow in their sconces, and even the silence of the night.
Little details she had taken for granted.
Little details she never knew she would miss the most.
Here, Hogwarts wasn't a broken rubble.
It wasn't the battlefield that changed the wizarding world forever.
Here, Hogwarts is whole.
It is still alive.
Hermione stopped in her tracks abruptly. The door she had passed by instantly gave way as she passed her hand along the old wood.
What was a door doing left unlocked in Hogwarts?
An empty room perhaps? Or did someone just forget?
She peaked her head inside and as it turned out, it was the former. Specifically, it was a disused classroom.
In front of the room was a large blackboard, while on one side were desks and chairs neatly piled up against the wall. It was dusty, and clearly had no sign of any use for years.
Still, in that room bathed in the dim light of the moonlight penetrating the glass windows, Hermione sighed in longing.
.
.
.
Just a bit more…
.
.
.
She circled the room, unbothered by the dust that collected on her fingertips as she skimmed every surface she could touch with the gentlest caress as if they would break.
She could easily picture a room like this on a sunny day.
She could imagine students sitting on their seats. With books, parchment, and quills in front of them.
She could visualize a little girl with wild, bushy hair and slightly large front teeth raising her hand before anyone else at every question from a professor.
She could see Harry and Ron snickering, teasing her playfully for being such a swot-
"Harry…? Ron…?"
Hermione's mouth opened in shock. Something was constricting around her neck. Her throat instantly felt dry.
"Harry… Ron…" this time their names came out as choked sobs.
There. There they were.
Right in front of her.
Her brother and best friend.
Standing beside her.
The brunette gasped and whipped her head around.
There was no one there.
But when she looked back, they were still there.
And they weren't alone.
This time, she couldn't help the tears from welling up her eyes.
"Mum… Da…"
Her parents were there, standing on her other side. Smiling back with their warm smiles.
Her son was standing in front of them.
And that's when she realized what she was seeing.
After another glance around, Hermione realized she was in front of a mirror. A magical artifact she never had the chance to use as it was destroyed since the fall of Hogwarts. Something she only knew from the words of Harry and Ron.
The Mirror of Erised.
With its unique magic, the mirror was said to show the heart's greatest desire. Harry said he saw himself with his parents. Ron confessed he saw glory and fame.
Hermione saw her loved ones.
Alduin, her parents, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Hagrid, Mrs. Reicher, Hector, even Crookshanks. And many more faces the mirror couldn't fit but knew in her heart.
They were all there.
Complete. Happy, and smiling.
Even her own son was holding her reflection's hand in the mirror.
Hermione couldn't help but smile.
But it was a sad smile.
Because it was so cruel.
It was a cruel image.
For she knew… she knew… that this was something she could never have.
Not after that deal she's done… and not after she was going to do… should she succeed.
She can never be with them all again.
And yet…
Her lips moved but her voice was lost to her unshed tears.
I miss you.
"Excuse me, madam?"
The voice that broke the silence was like the crack of thunder after the quiet reprieve.
In her shock, her body's developed defense mechanism kicked in. Hermione's wand appeared in her hand and a hex shot out of its tip towards her intruder that managed to sneak up behind her.
"Madam please!" said voice cried out after they successfully shielded against her quick shot. "I mean you no harm."
There was a cautious gentleness in his tone. She didn't fire again but she didn't lower her wand either.
"Please, madam, may you please lower your wand? I apologize if I startled you."
The stranger came into the light, and Hermione had to summon all her willpower to not fall on her knees in shock.
"Professor Dumbledore?"
No offense to those who like the Cursed Child, but to be perfectly honest, in my opinion, it was a missed opportunity for JKR to just expand the wizarding world to other countries. Considering HP's large fanbase. It could be just some notes or short stories, or a whole new saga with new characters, either way I would be genuinely interested with the unique take on magic there is for every school/country.
Take care everybody! And STAY AWESOME!
Ciao~!