Chapter Four
Hermione awoke feeling unsettled from her dream, one that she couldn't quite remember, and that eluded her ever the more the harder she tried to recall it. But by the time she'd completed her morning routine, she'd mostly dispelled her apprehension, and went to breakfast with a certain amount of confidence, enough to face Tom Riddle, or so she hoped. She hadn't counted, however, on dealing with Ezekiel Frinn.
Dumbledore was just rising from his seat, Riddle was about midway through, and Frinn, by the looks of things, had just sat down. He was just pouring himself a cup of tea, his plate as of yet unspoiled by food.
"Good morning, my dear," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I hope you slept well?"
"Yes, thank you, sir. I was exhausted from my journey, and the accommodations are excellent." She tried to sound very grateful and awed by the castle's hospitality, though she was very used to it by now, and only wanted some morning tea.
Dumbledore had reached her on his way out, and took her arm. "Please, call me Albus. You are the daughter of my dear friends, like family." His kind eyes smiled down at her, so warmly.
Hermione knew the words themselves were an act for the listeners at the table, but she also understood his meaning intended for her. She felt another spout of emotion well up, and her eyes prickled. Affection for the dear man now before her and heartache for what she'd left behind overwhelmed her, and impulsively she reached out and pulled Dumbledore into a fierce hug.
After a brief embrace, she stepped back, red-faced. She tried to remember if she'd ever known anyone to hug Dumbledore, and couldn't recall even Harry to do so.
Dumbledore looked pleased, though. Hermione was suddenly extremely aware of Frinn, drinking his tea with complete absorption and pretending not to notice anything outside of his breakfast, and Riddle, who was not even bothering to pretend, but watching with slightly raised eyebrows.
"Thanks, erm—uh—Uncle Al," Hermione blurted out, unable to address her mentor without some sort of title. She mentally slapped her forehead. She had come prepared to investigate Riddle—what was going on?
Dumbledore chuckled, and squeezed her hand before moving towards the door. "Alas, I must now go, there is a weighty amount of paperwork to be done before the new term begins. Do drop in if you need anything; for now, perhaps, you can help Tom keep our Charms professor out of too much trouble. Even over tea is this a possibility." He gave her a look that resembled some sort of mock-severe warning, and left.
"'Morning," greeted Frinn as she approached tiredly. Hermione smiled, a little weakly, fumbling in an attempt to sit, but he seemed to understand as he kindly pulled out her chair to save her the trouble. "Take it easy, there."
She practically collapsed into her chair, feeling nervous. She had been prepared to face Riddle, with her calculated agenda to follow, but she didn't know how to handle this overly charming professor as well.
Frinn seemed a little nervous as well. "So—Miss Hale—"
"—Hermione, please—"
"Hermione, then… if you like your accommodations so much, surely you can't be in the dungeons, where the Potions labs are?" He grinned, inviting her into his joke.
"Oh, heavens, no, I'm a few floors above, I think. I believe I'm fairly near—actually, I really don't know my way around, at all." Her voice sounded shrill and nervous to her own ears.
"She's a few floors above," confirmed Riddle, evenly. "Not too far away from the labs, but it's all staircases."
Frinn just kept grinning. "Well, I'd be delighted to help you learn your way around, if you'd like—and I'm sure I speak for Riddle, as well," Frinn added, as if just remembering the student.
Riddle looked over at them, and nodded. "Of course."
"Thanks." She felt her cheeks warming up.
Frinn served himself some potatoes, and took a forkful. "So—potions and transfiguration—extremely interesting field, that." He gave her a scrutinizing look. Hermione made an awkward assenting noise, unable to think of anything more profound to say.
"Very interesting and all that, of course, but I doubt it will be gratifying," Riddle interjected, looking over at her again to see her reaction.
"Whatever you accomplish will be groundwork only, and used for more famous breakthroughs," agreed Frinn, adding hastily, "Groundwork is really important, of course—"
"Oh, there will be very little glory, I know that," said Hermione. "I probably won't get much credit for my work, and earn very little off of my labors, etc.—but you said it, it is not researched." Her face lit up in academic zeal.
Frinn grinned wider, and his steady look made her mildly uncomfortable. "You want to change the world, then… for the world's sake?" he squinted a bit, as if trying to read the answer right under her skin.
"Maybe the very idea of an un-researched field excites you," Riddle said, frowning a little as he studied her.
"Or both," Frinn countered, as if in contest.
Hermione smiled into their faces, somewhat amused, and then looked down at her plate again, quickly. Buttering a biscuit rather sloppily, she replied, "Parts of both, I guess. I really do like knowing as much as I can." She spotted Riddle nodding slightly in agreement. "I find it remarkable that no one has looked into this before!" She shook her head, and bit her biscuit.
"When it comes to werewolves, not many want to spend their time looking for remedies," commented Frinn, neutrally, as if upon the weather. "Werewolves are considered Dark creatures, Hermione." He raised his eyebrows at her, inviting her dissent. Riddle was unusually quiet, waiting for her answer.
"I know that. And I know some are Dark—I know that all too well," she spat, thinking of a particularly savage werewolf, an attacker of children. "Just like some men are Dark, just like some men are like animals! Lycanthropy is not the cause of Darkness, though it can be used as a powerful weapon. Some of werewolf Darkness can be attributed to their cold treatment in society, I'm sure of it! Some are isolated from wizarding society because of their affliction, scorned by 'normal' wizards, and brought up as anti-wizard savages! Dark wizards find their bitterness all too easy to control. If a cure were possible—it would improve society's reception of werewolves, save innocent victims, and disarm the more militant ones." She paused briefly to catch her breath. "And Transfiguration-Potions cross-research will most definitely lead to more than werewolf remedies. How about potions that cause transfigurations? The Metamorphamagus ability, or the Animagus ability, in a flask. Who knows what such research could produce?" Hermione finished passionately, and then felt a sudden flash of embarrassment as she mentally kicked herself for getting carried away.
"Interesting," said Riddle, quietly. His lack of agreement or disagreement to her basic argument disturbed Hermione. She felt like an odd specimen of spider or snake being examined and dissected.
Frinn laughed appreciatively, sitting back in his chair. "I like you, you're a dreamer and a do-er all in one…" he shook his head, looking a little bewildered.
Riddle was rising. "Well, I'll be off. If you do need help finding your way about, Hale, I'd be happy to help."
"Thank you, that's very kind."
"Good morning." He nodded to both her and Frinn, and, turning sharply, he left.
Watching him go with a queasy, unsettled feeling, Hermione took a large sip of her tea, coughing. She was unfairly annoyed at Frinn for preventing what could have been a valuable investigation of Riddle. Changing the subject before Frinn continued to flatter fifty-odd years worth of future magical advancements from her, she asked, "So… how long have you been at Hogwarts, Professor Frinn?"
"You don't have to call me that—I'd rather you didn't, actually. I'm not your teacher," chided Frinn jokingly. Hermione just smiled lightly, and Frinn coughed, returning to his meal. "Anyway," he continued, "I've been here a term and a half. I replaced a teacher who was killed in the war by some of Grindelwald's lackeys. Dumbledore, he recru—well, brought me here for the job."
"Oh—then—did you know Dumbledore well before then?" She tried to assume the look of one who was trying not to be anxious, and who was failing.
"Somewhat, yes, I was a student here, and we remained in touch after I left school—say, are you quite alright?"
Hermione was now trying to look slightly ill, and hoped that she wasn't overdoing it. "I suppose—you didn't know my parents, then," she said, quietly, looking at her place dejectedly.
A look of pity passed over his face. "The Hales, no, not really, not personally. I knew of them, of course, they were heroes to our side, however enigmatic, and they were great friends of Dumbledore so I'd come across them once or twice…."
Hermione nodded and stonily pushed her food around her plate.
"Dumbledore thought very highly of them, as I'm sure he's told you," Frinn said awkwardly.
She shot him a small smile and gave a resigned sigh, shaking herself as if shaking off the gloom. It was a good acting performance, she told herself with cool satisfaction. She refused to feel guilty about the deception, and pushed away thoughts of her real parents and friends from her life.
After a silence that was decidedly unpleasant for both of them, she changed the subject again. "So—tell me, why is there just one student here this summer? Is it normal to allow a student here for the summer holiday, or are there normally more?" She knew the answers, of course, and had a very good feeling as to why Riddle specifically was permitted to stay, but she wanted to know what the teachers had been told. Besides, she couldn't appear to know too much without asking.
"Well—he's an orphan, actually…" Frinn looked uncomfortable. "He normally goes to an orphanage in London for the summer holiday, but I gather he really hates it—well, who'd want to live in an orphanage? He's been after the Headmaster to stay here for the summers, but Dippet always said no. I guess, now that the war is pretty much over…."
Hermione frowned. "A London orphanage? That's hardly safer than Hogwarts, with the Muggle bombings!"
Frinn glanced around, checking for unwanted listeners, and leaned a little closer. "I think Dumbledore had something to do with it, but as for his reasons, I can't fathom—I'd always imagined he supported Riddle returning to the orphanage, but this time he definitely took up Riddle's side with Dippet. Maybe I was wrong, I haven't been here very long, of course…." He shrugged.
"Is he a good student?"
"Oh—exceptional. Really a brilliant lad, a joy to teach, all that. The students admire him and flock to him. He's Head Boy this term, in fact."
"Maybe Dumbledore thought he deserved this, then?" Hermione said, diplomatically. "Sounds like he is a worthy candidate for this privilege."
Frinn didn't look convinced, but he shrugged and nodded anyway. "Maybe. Any kid deserves to be in a proper 'home' for the summer." He sipped his tea. "You know, Slytherin House has a very bad reputation, and in all fairness, I'm glad Riddle's getting a chance to change that, to prove that not all Slytherin ambition is Dark. I suppose you've heard of the notorious rivalries here?"
"A little, not much. Just—Gryffindor, right, and Slytherin?"
"Yeah, for years, they—"
"—no, no don't," said Hermione quickly, and then smiled apologetically. "I don't want prejudices before I even meet anyone! I want to take advantage of the fact that I won't be sorted or attached to any one house."
"Sounds like a good, er—very diplomatic idea," agreed Frinn.
"Riddle is proof, an atypical Slytherin. He sounds quite interesting."
"Riddle is very interesting, all right," said a sharper voice, and they looked towards the door to see a rigid-backed Professor Andersen swoop into the hall. "He is highly intelligent, and well-liked. One of Hogwarts' prized students." Andersen sounded defensive and looked extremely irritated.
"Exactly the conclusion we came to," Frinn said, coolly. Hermione looked between them, a little surprised at the frostiness between the two professors.
"You might want to finish up there, Professor," Andersen said, emphasizing his title with slightly narrowing eyes. Her eyes darted between the two breakfasters. "It may be the summer holiday, but you still have a job to do. You still haven't dealt with the suits-of-armor in the Arithmancy hallway."
Frinn look distinctly annoyed at the scolding. "Right. I was going to sort that out this morning, in fact." He downed his tea hastily, and stood. "Er—Hermione, if you still need a tour around, this will—"
"—I'm sure someone else can show Miss Hale around if you are too busy, Professor," said Andersen, sitting down and filling her plate.
"Er—right," Frinn said again, turning in such a way that Andersen couldn't see his face, and he rolled his eyes at Hermione. He made a tiny gesture towards the door and winked. Hermione tried to keep her face impassive, and said, "Thanks for the offer anyway, Professor Frinn."
Frinn looked hastily at Andersen and scurried out of the Great Hall, stopping only to clap Beral Wyde on the shoulder, saying only a word or two of greeting before darting out.
Wyde lumbered up to the table, looking even grizzlier in the morning than he had last night. "Devilish hour," he growled. He didn't bother to sit down, but just poured himself some tea and drank it down straight before repeating the process.
Hermione smiled at him in greeting, and finished her own tea and milk. She set her napkin down next to her empty plate, wondering how to leave without being obvious about following Frinn.
"You finished there, then?" Wyde said. He grabbed some toast and conjured a paper napkin. "I'll accompany you, then—breakfast is a horrid meal, and I know for fact that you have no idea what's where in this crazy castle."
Hermione grinned. "Everyone seems determined to help me with that," she commented. She noticed Andersen smiling slightly, but she quickly covered it up. She seemed determined to disapprove of such lenient characters like Wyde and Frinn.
Wyde offered Hermione his arm. "Augusta, m'dear, the Headmaster will be along shortly, so you shall soon have more agreeable company." He nodded his head to her and swept Hermione away from the table and out of the dining hall.
Just outside in the atrium, Frinn was leaning casually against the wall opposite the doors to the dining hall. He beamed at the two, straightening up, eyes laughing.
"Well done, Beral. That was no easy task." He winked at Hermione, who couldn't help but let out a laugh.
"Come on, then, Zek, we actually do need to settle those suits-of-armor. They have been making a hideous racket and I refuse to put up with it any longer." Wyde looked back at Hermione. "Care to see the Arithmancy hallway, m'dear?"
Frinn sheepishly offered Hermione his own arm, which she accepted, and, escorted by both, she let the two show her the castle that had been home to her for seven years.
A/N: I decided to update this half, the other half is coming along shortly, I promise. I thought I'd cut it in half, since you're waiting, and it was some 13 pages anyway and long enough. I'm still tweaking it though. Hope this is OK, I just kinda wrote it and then haven't checked it, the next part has Tommy Riddle in it so I was concentrating on that. Sorry for the delay, been out of town. I've heard they've outlawed individual review responses, sadly, right when I was considering doing it. I'll look through them for questions though and hopefully answer those when I post the next one. Please review! Thanks!
Ta! -Luna