Part 4

The dried up prune of a woman that had been present the previous night had interrupted his slumber. Tom disliked mornings and he disliked this morning in particular. A return to consciousness meant a return to the dilemmas so recently thrust upon him. Under the old witch's direction, he'd dressed and awaited for her instructions. The pleasant exterior he tried to erect not at all mitigated the disdainful looks she gave him. To be so suddenly bereft of his old defenses was unsettling. Discarding the mask of the dutiful student had been something Tom had anticipated greatly. After leaving Hogwarts, he would be himself. He would be free. Now he was strongly wishing he could fall back to the familiar role.

Tom was finding that he was very vulnerable indeed. The illusion of virtue had served as an effective protection against suspicion during his years at Hogwarts. He had planned to only reveal himself as a Dark Wizard once he had increased his knowledge and solidified his control over his followers. Then, it would have been too late and no one would have dared to challenge him. Instead his ambitions and his true nature were now common knowledge. That vulnerability was something he would have to change very soon.

Dark Wizards were not tolerated in his day. Grindelwald had frightened too many people for the Ministry to be lenient. Tom suspected the current Ministry to be just as harsh. His older self's recent bid for power would make them all the more paranoid. That was the unsaid hold Dumbledore had over him. Should he do anything the old fool disliked, all Dumbledore had to do was leak a hint of his true identity to the Aurors. In this time, he had no influence, no power, no protection. If only the Ministry were the least of his concerns. Tom shook his head and returned his attention to the witch who was sorting through a stack of books.

"These books contain the recent history of the wizarding and muggle world. You should find it informative. It would be to your benefit if you studied these volumes," the old witch spoke as she finished with the books.

"I'll do so. Might I know your name?" Tom asked blandly.

"Minerva McGonagall. I'm the Deputy Headmistress, Professor or Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor. You already know Albus but the other man was Severus Snape. He is Hogwart's Potions Master and Head of Slytherin. The three of us are the only staff members to know your... origins. If you need anything, approach one of us."

Tom carefully hid his surprise. The memory of a pretty, raven haired young woman flashed through his mind. Minerva McGonagall had been Head Girl when he had been a mere second year. It was disturbing to see someone he remembered as a young woman now advanced in her years. In the diary he'd known time passed. Indeed, it had been maddening. He had been locked into a state of constant limbo. By the time Virginia Weasley had written in his diary, he had begun to question his sanity. For all that he'd know time went by, he hadn't truly understood the implications. Tom felt strangely subdued. Maybe those books would be more important than he'd anticipated.

"And sweet little Virgina?" Tom asked, unable to help the sneer that had crept into his voice.

"You would be well advised to stay well away from Miss Weasley. She is not the girl you tormented. I will be briefing her of your existence after I am done here."

"But we were such friends," Tom mocked.

"Miss Weasley has been given advanced placement in the Auror training program for good reasons. Unless you wish to be hexed within an inch of your life, stay away from her," McGonagall snapped.

"Don't worry, I won't bother any of your precious Gryffindors. There are already far too many people who know who I am," Tom replied.

"Then you realize the precarious situation you find yourself in. None of those people will hesitate to take action should you misbehave," McGonnagal replied, her lips thinning with anger.

"Slytherins understand self-preservation, McGonagall. Now, is there anything else?"

"Yes. This is your wand and Gringott's vault key," McGonagall snapped, producing the first two items and then a third from the magically enhanced pockets of her robes. "This is the file detailing the particulars of your new identity. Albus has taken great care to make sure the Ministry will have no reason to suspect out of hand."

Again the threat was clear, but then, that was typical Gryffindor overkill. Tom had the strangest urge to roll his eyes. Instead he flipped open the file and scanned the first few documents. Tom read the information clearly presented in the various papers with curiosity. The information was perfectly accurate and true with the exception of the dates. It amused him that he had supposedly been privately tutored. That did, however, clear up any problems with a lack of records. He was pleased to see that Dumbledore had let his OWL and NEWT scores intact. When he perused his carefully faked birth certificate, he clenched his jaw. How he despised the 'halfblood' written in even bold calligraphy. Snapping the file shut, Tom nearly threw it onto the desk.

"Is there anything else?" Tom asked tightly.

"You are restricted to this suite unless accompanied by myself, Professor Snape or the Headmaster, until you are introduced to the school tomorrow morning. If you need anything, simply ask Miss Granger or summon one of the house elves," McGonagall replied in a tone that suggested dire consequences if he disobeyed.

In lieu of replying, Tom nodded and that seemed to satisfy the witch. She then made her swift exit. Alone, Tom eyed the pile of books on the desk. Knowledge was power and he refused to be ignorant. Systematically, he scanned over the volumes on wizarding and muggle history. The latter he did so with distaste but being chained to a mudblood, he'd need to know about recent events in the muggle world. Concentrating on the books was harder than Tom liked. Recent events kept rising from his memory to distract him. Closing the book he'd been reading he promised himself to over both sets of history books in greater depth later.

His long fingers rubbed discontentedly at his eyes. That girl would drive him mad. Of course, that was probably what Dumbledore had intended all along. It would be just like that petty meddler. Tom wondered if that Granger girl had any idea exactly how scheming her precious headmaster was. He'd watched that man rise to power during his student years. Dumbledore put most Slytherins to shame with his scheming. All the while he'd preserved his lily white exterior. Tom bared his teeth in distaste. Gryffindors were such hypocrites. That was perfectly illustrated by how he'd woken up naked and debauched next to a mudblood.

He'd had plans for the power spike gained from the loss of his virginity. Slytherins were not ignorant of the power of sex magic like some of the other houses. Many happily utilized those ways to further themselves. Tom had refrained, not desiring it to distract him from his more important plans. Once free from Hogwarts he'd intended to learn from a Master of sex magic and begin the first steps towards immortality and his domination of the wizarding world.

Bitterly, Tom laughed. What a consolation prize he was given. It was almost disquieting how his thoughts came back to the Granger girl. He'd never admit it but that Potion Master's concoctions had worked well, almost disturbingly so. For a moment in time he'd been in love with the mudblood. Such a weakness was repulsive to him. His only comfort was that she was probably more upset by it than he was. She seemed the bookish, insulated type. Probably hadn't even been kissed, Tom thought with a sneer. That might be something worth using at some point. He might not have indulged in the pleasures of the flesh but he was not ignorant of his physical charms. Tom had charmed and flirted to his advantage many times. Of course, he'd have to be careful as using her in that way might become a little too tempting. Not that so simplistic a trap could ever catch him.

A little more confidant, Tom returned to his studies. While the books were dry the information they contained was fascinating. It was daunting how much had happened. The wizarding world tended to change slowly but it seemed he'd certainly made his mark upon it. It was quite gratifying. What did seem odd, were the number of wizarding families that had been destroyed during the war. Tom knew that one of the wizarding world's greatest weaknesses was that it was so small. There simply weren't that many wizards or witches. All too easily the muggle world could swallow them. To see so many ancient families gone bothered him. Surely his older self had his reasons, Tom assured himself and then pushed it from his mind. As for the muggle books... they seemed to focus on strange gadgets and people that had no meaning to him. Not that Tom expected much better. In his time, muggles were set on exterminating themselves. That would have been something he would have approved of had they not risked destroying the wizarding world along with them.

A short rap on the door followed by the reappearance of McGonagall's pinched face interrupted his reading. The soured woman halted a few feet away and dispassionately gazed at him for a moment. Tom wondered what would precipitate such observation. She seemed to be measuring him but for what he couldn't say.

"The Grangers have been briefed of your and Hermione's situation. They have requested to meet you. I expect you to be polite and respectful. Any rudeness and you will suffer the consequences."

So that was it. He was expected to play nice to a bunch of muggles. The sour woman obviously thought him incapable of it. Tom found it distasteful but charming the Grangers might be worth the effort.

"I am capable of being polite, Professor McGonagall."

The woman 'hrumph'ed and gestured for him to follow him. He did so and internally plotted exactly how he would deal with his muggle wardens. This meeting would set the tone of their future interactions. They potentially could restrict his movements more than the girl. That was something Tom needed to avoid.

* * *

Tom Riddle entered the room like a king on promenade. He fairly glittered with dignity and charm. Hermione restrained herself from snorting her disdain. She'd had enough of that from Draco Malfoy. She'd helped that particular Slytherin to a sticky end and she was beginning to regret she couldn't serve Riddle the same fate. Underneath her disdain was a small trickle of fear. Would her parents fall for his copious charm and undeniable charisma? Tom Riddle had an intensity about him that could neither ignored nor discounted. Even knowing who he'd been, Hermione felt pulled towards him. That force of personality had been what made Voldemort so dangerous. He had commanded some of the most powerful and arrogant wizards and witches in the magical world with disheartening ease. What would two more muggles be?

Of course, she was selling her parents short.

"Tom Riddle, please meet your hosts. These are Drs Lydia and Alan Granger," Dumbledor spoke, his eyes twinkling.

When her mother was introduced as Dr Granger, Riddle's eyebrows went crawling into his hairline. The strange look he'd given her mother had set her lips into a stern line. Hermione knew only too well how her mother hated being overlooked or dismissed simply because she was female. Lydia Granger had worked very hard to be one of the best in her field and even harder to gain the respect of her colleagues. She certainly didn't like being near dismissed by a boy. The magical world was far more progressive than the muggle world in regards to women's rights but there were still prejudices, particularly in muggleborns. Privately, Hermione chuckled to herself. Tom was certainly a product of his times and she would enjoy his discomfort.

"Pleased to meet the both of you," Tom replied somewhat stiffly.

Her father was not particularly impressed with Tom's reaction but shook his hand politely enough. For tense moment, Hermione held her breath as her father hit Riddle with a heavy gaze. Finally her father nodded and released the young wizard's hand. What her father had seen, she didn't know. Hermione desperately wanted to ask but knew that it wasn't the time. The set of Riddle's shoulders was tenser than they had been when he'd first walked into the room. Something had obviously passed between the men.

"So... what do you plan to do as university? Hermione plans to learn more about runes," Lydia asked into the sudden silence.

"I'm afraid my plan of studies was recently scrapped. What I'll be studying, I don't know," Tom smoothly replied.

"I suppose that's true, Twin Oaks doesn't teach your first choice of study," Hermione said cattily, before she could help herself.

"Hmm, and what do you suggest, Muggle Studies?" Tom countered with a tinge of venom.

"They really offer university level courses in non-magical life?" her father interrupted.

"Some wizards and witches don't know much about muggle life, let alone respect it," Hermione replied tightly.

Riddle instantly caught the double meaning of her words. His face turned ridged with restrained rage. Hermione felt her jaw clench. She wanted to curse off the smirk that seemed to be permanently fixed on his face. Long pale fingers extended and twitched in a manner that Hermione was familiar with. Voldemort had used that same unconscious gesture just before he went for his wand. Hermione's hand lunged for her wand. Sensing her movement, Riddle mirrored her movements. Before she had withdrawn her wand halfway from her sleeve, her body locked and froze in place. Riddle was likewise petrified.

"That is enough," Dumbledore thundered. "I am greatly disappointed in the both of you. Barely a moment in each other's presence and you are arguing to the point of dueling. I dare say that such actions will only serve to make your lives miserable. Do you really wish to spend the rest of your days dueling?"

Neither of them could say or do anything but Hermione felt contrite. Hadn't she resolved to keep the peace? Amid the stress of Tom Riddle meeting her parents and the left over shock from the previous night, her temper had been all too easy to spark. He'd been an all too easy and willing a target for her frustration. Uncomfortably, she met his gaze. Hermione read the frustration and oddly enough, embarrassment on his face. The less charitable part of her cheered at his discomfort but Hermione forced herself to push such thoughts away.

"Now, I'm going to release the spell. I hope that both of you have come to your senses? An apology would not be amiss."

The spell released and Hermione cautiously returned her want to its place. She glanced towards her parents and winced. They were clearly alarmed and baffled. Dressed in proper professional muggle suits, they were out of place in Dumbledore's office that was cluttered with magical devices and oddities. Hermione realized that they probably hadn't understood the hidden meanings to their hasty words. This was also one of the few times they'd seen magic in action. Flashing them a smile to reassure them, she looked back at Riddle. His wand had also disappeared. Taking a breath, Hermione stepped forward and offered her hand.

"I apologize for my hasty words," Hermione said uncomfortably but not untruthfully.

"As do I," not to be outdone, Tom replied with enough discomfort that Hermione believed him.

Their hands met and Hermione felt a shock. Long cool fingers clasped hers, soft flesh pressed against soft flesh. In response to the shock, her body ached with a pang of desire. Her breath quickened almost imperceptibly. What part of her brain that hadn't been surprised by the sudden rush of sensation, realized it was probably a side effect from the binding. The young wizard, whose hand still clasped hers, was momentarily frozen in shock. His eyes had widened and had locked with hers. Those dark orbs were a flat pool of black like a forest pond at midnight. Absently, Hermione mused that she'd have to move far closer to see the flakes of crimson that peppered them. Abruptly, Hermione realized she was staring. Riddle seemed to come to the same conclusion as spots of color appeared on his pale cheeks. Hurriedly they dropped their handclasp.

"Good, good," the headmaster announced.

Unease prickled her skin into goose bumps. Dumbledore's words seemed to be shaded with deeper meanings than Hermione could fathom. Straightening her robes and letting her fingers smooth over her wand for reassurance, Hermione turned back to her parents. Had she been alone with them, she didn't doubt they'd pelt her with questions. Whatever first impression she had wanted to make on them in such trying circumstances, this was not it. Instead she'd nearly launched into a full-scale duel in front of them.

"I'm sorry, Mum, Dad," Hermione spoke awkwardly.

"Well, I won't pretend to understand what happened, Hermione," Alan reproved. "But such violence won't be tolerated. You and Tom will have to learn to restrain your tempers as Dumbledore said."

"I'm sure we'll manage," Riddle replied with an innocent smile.

"Perhaps we should get back to discussing the practical arrangements for this summer?" Lydia suggested, seeing Hermione's eyes narrow slightly.

"Yes, is there anything that needs to be done in the magical world before you come to live with us, Tom?" Alan asked.

"Not that I'm aware of. I would like the opportunity to visit Diagon Alley to pick up some reading material," Tom requested.

"Certainly! We can hardly tear Hermione away from the bookstore during the summer. I'm sure we can organize to visit on the way back from the train station," Lydia assured the young man.

Hermione flushed at the comment. Her cheeks reddened with a mix of pride and embarrassment. The hot flush of blood pricked at her cheeks like thousands of minute needles. Flourish and Blott's was nearly a second home during the summer months. She had become such a regular that she was on good terms with the staff and they reserved her copies of books she might be interested in. Mister Blott himself had even promised her a job during the summer. While she was proud of her voracious reading habits, her mother's comment made her sound like she was nothing more than an oblivious schoolgirl who couldn't see beyond whatever book she had her nose stuck in, let alone the big picture. This was an image that she had fought against all through her time at Hogwarts.

"I suppose you'll probably need all manner of clothes too. I'll make sure we have the essentials by the time you and Hermione arrive on the Express. Clothes you'll have to buy yourself. I know better than to try and buy clothes for a teenager," Alan said and winked at Hermione.

"Dad! I'm certainly not that fussy," Hermione replied in her defense.

"She has you there, Alan. Our Hermione is by far the most sensible girl of her age I know. Tom, I know this is upsetting and abrupt but I want you to feel welcome in our home," Lydia spoke.

"Thank you, ma'am," Tom replied. "I appreciate you opening your home to a stranger."

"Yes, well, I am sure we'll remedy the stranger part," Lydia smiled. "Just try to get along with my daughter. I suspect you're both headstrong and stubborn so it won't be easy. Perhaps Hermione can help you decide what you'd like to do at Twin Oaks. I'm sure she still has all the brochures."

The suggestion her mother made was not a suggestion at all. Hermione felt her lips thin. She wanted nothing more to do with Tom Riddle than what she had to. Their tentative truce probably wouldn't hold if they were forced to put it to a serious test. Even when it had been beneficial for them to keep up a front of pleasant neutrality they'd come close to hexing each other into oblivion. Still, they had to come to terms with their situation soon.

Tomorrow they would be facing the whole school. Hermione knew it would look rather odd if she started a duel with Hogwart's new independent researcher whom she wasn't supposed to know. Suspicion was something they would actively have to avoid. Hermione winced. She realized she'd already started to think of herself and Riddle as a unit. While she had been absorbed in her thoughts, Tom had responded. Now her parents were making polite good-byes. A feeling of light panic fluttered through her and Hermione suddenly wished she could fly into her parents arms and hide there, ignoring Hogwarts, Tom and everything else. That was not to be. She wasn't a child anymore.

"Good-bye, Mum," Hermione said as she was embraced.

After their parting words were said, her parents were escorted out of the Headmaster's office. Professor McGonnagal appeared again and led Tom away. Hermione was left facing the ever-twinkling eyes of the Headmaster. Curiously Hermione settled back into the seat that Dumbledore waved her into. What was it that he required?

"Now that your parents have been informed, there are a few matters that need to be cleared up. Minerva has already provided Mr Riddle with a copy of his manufactured identity and other pertinent details. You'll need to ask him for a copy. I suggest that you read it and familiarize yourself with its contents."

"I will, Headmaster," Hermione replied.

"Excellent, Miss Granger. While that folder deals with Tom's present, this file deals with his past," Dumbledore spoke as he produced a thick file which he handed to Hermione. "This file includes Tom's school records and all the information we have regarding his rise as Voldemort. As I'm sure you've guessed, it contains information not known to the public. I suggest you destroy it when you are done. It would also be best not to show it to Mr Riddle."

"I assume the file could help him follow his older self's path?" Hermione asked looking down at the file.

"Potentially."

That was all the headmaster was clearly willing to say. Hermione resolved to go through the file as soon as she could. Dumbledore seemed to want her to make her own judgement. That made her all the more curious as to what the file contained. It crinkled enticingly with the sound of old parchment and clippings from newspapers. The file might give her the edge she greatly needed. Dumbledore probably knew she felt horribly unprepared for the task he wanted her to fulfil. Even if the file didn't give her any useful information, it would make her feel better. The headmaster probably knew that too. Resisting the urge to flip through the file, Hermione considered her next question.

"Headmaster, you said we would need to learn how to use or operate the bond. When will we do that?"

"Ah, yes, it has been organized for you to become an animagus."

"But I'm already an animagus," Hermione replied with a frown.

"That is exactly right. During the time you are supposed to be taking lessons on becoming an animagus, Minerva and I will be aiding yourself and young Mr Riddle in how to use the bond. You will spend time each day until you are both proficient."

"Thank you, sir. I suppose I'll have to look up blood bonds as well since that is our explanation for our close company."

"Good idea, particularly when wizarding law will now regard you as one," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle of his eyes.

"What?! I-I mean, sir, what do you mean by 'one'," Hermione stuttered.

"Now, now, it's just a formality. The ministry views those who are blood bonded as legally a single unit. What affects one will affect the other."

"There are different levels of bond-" Hermione began.

"I understand your reluctance, Miss Granger but the bond has been already filed. According to the Ministry you have an 'A' class bond."

Hermione winced at Dumbledore's firm tone. Once again he'd out manuvered her. Hermione was beginning to feel a sour resentment towards the elderly wizard. Instead of wallowing in her resentment, she concentrated on her knowledge of blood bonds. Most of her knowledge had come from her 'light reading'. In charms and DADA they'd only been mentioned in passing.

According to what she'd read, there were four kinds of blood bonds. Each level had certain functions within wizarding society but some were more common than others. The most usual bonds were D level bonds. Although they were blood magic they were harmless and flimsy. Children often swore friendship by pricking their fingers and pressing them together. The highest class was virtually unheard of. There had been two in the past century. It was used between sworn companions or those owing a lifedebt to another. The second highest were often used in legal matters of great importance such as betrothals between old magical families. Promises and vows between magical individuals could be sealed with blood to create a C level bond.

While Hermione was versed in the types of blood bond, she hadn't researched the practical implications. Somewhat disturbed by the headmaster's insistence in claiming a blood bond of the highest level, Hermione hunkered down in her chair. Was her insistence on as much distance as possible between herself and Tom an exercise in futility? No, she refused to believe it. The situation might be difficult to navigate but she could do it and come out with privacy and life intact.

"I see," Hermione replied, although they both knew she didn't. "Is there anything else that I should know?"

"Not that I can think of. Minerva and I will brief to your friends but I thought that I should ask you if you would like to be in attendance," Dumbledore said.

Hermione felt her stomach turn at the thought of another tension filled meeting. It might not have been very Gryffindor of her, but she didn't think she could endure the horrified reactions of her friends. Of Harry, Ron and Ginny, Hermione could only guess at one of their reactions. Without a doubt, Ron's temper would blow up and it would take quite a bit of effort to get him to see reason. Harry... well he thought he'd gotten rid of his nemesis permanently. Finding out Voldemort was still alive, albeit in a different form, would be hard for him to cope with. Ginny's reaction was the hardest for Hermione to predict. Hermione knew that her experiences with Tom Riddle had changed her in fundamental ways. It was to Ginny's credit that she had used those experiences to strengthen herself. Still, that was a far cry from having to have a living reminder thrust into her face.

"I think I will decline," Hermione said with unnecessary formality.

"Very well. Why don't you return to your rooms. I'll send someone to tell you what happened, once I've met with your companions."

With that, Hermione gratefully left the Headmaster's office. Thankfully, the corridors were abandoned with students busy in classes. Without the distraction of bustling crowds, Hermione quickly found herself outside the portrait that led to the Head Girl and Boy rooms. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd jumped from the cauldron into the fire.