Part 9
Pitiful attempts by Potter to meddle aside, Tom was positively amazed with how well things were progressing. Create the façade of compliance and Granger was eating out of his palm. He had yet to test her boundaries, but he was certain he would prevail. Tom watched from the corner of his eye as she completed the exercise Dumbledore had assigned. Their week of tutelage about the bond was coming to a close. The days had passed much as their first. They were worked to exhaustion in one way or another, before they had a short night to recover before the process was repeated.
Their labor wasn't without its compensations. What they were being taught was highly advanced. Most witches and wizards never bothered to develop their magic in such a direct way. As a result, finding instruction was difficult. Indeed, he'd had to satisfy himself with the vague explanations from books. Tom was very pleased with both the depth of their instruction and their progress. They had mastered all Snape and Dumbledore had been able to throw at them.
Strangely, how to block the magic of the other hadn't been among the skills they'd been taught. That particular oversight was clearly premeditated and Tom chafed at the delay. By his estimation, they had been ready to learn for the past three days. Although Tom dearly wanted to learn that last skill, that was not what he found monopolizing his thoughts.
Hermione Granger was a contradiction. Her presence infuriated Tom but it was becoming easier to forget that. Much to his disgust he found himself becoming accustomed to his circumstances. Dare he say it, he was becoming comfortable in a mudblood's company. Hermione's conversational skill wasn't lacking and her intelligence made their arguments amusing. She was deliciously easy to enrage, although their arguments hadn't escalated as they had on the second night. How this had happened he didn't know. Cultivating Granger was supposed to be more revolting than it was. No longer having to play the innocent teachers' pet, Tom found himself revealing more of his true self than he had ever intended and it felt remarkably freeing.
That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to remember what had been done to him. If he stoked the ember of his rage, then all he had to do was fan it into flames when was in a position to do so. Tom had resigned himself to the fact that his destiny was much changed. That didn't mean, however, that he would forgive. The list of slights Dumbledore had committed against his person grew longer everyday.
Using Hermione to-
"Riddle! Goodness, are you even in there?" Hermione asked irritably.
"Maybe if you didn't howl like a banshee I would be more inclined to answer," Tom retorted.
"If you'd answered me sooner I wouldn't have howled," Hermione said irritably.
"What did you want, Granger?"
"Dumbledore wants us in his office after dinner. A house elf just delivered his message."
"Hmm, maybe he'll finally teach us how to block the other's magic."
"Maybe but I thought he'd do that days ago," Hermione replied.
"Do you still think that's the real point of these lessons of his?"
"No. I'm certain he has an ulterior motive or two," Hermione replied with a smile. "Any ideas what?"
"To ensure I no longer have any plans for world domination?" Riddle sneered. "Or maybe he hopes that his taste in clothing will rub off on us through overexposure. I didn't think robes came in Hawaiian prints."
"What? Didn't you like the way the palm trees were charmed to move?"
"If I'd had to look at him any longer I would have been seasick."
Hermione gave up repressing her smile. Today's outfit had been a little much. Her eyes still burned from the garish green, orange and red. Heaving a sigh, Hermione arched her back to release the tension in her shoulders. Dumbledore had set them exercises to do before their afternoon class and any recovery she'd made after their nap was gone. Hermione was certain that she'd end up collapsed on the ground from overwork.
"Riddle, are we due to go to dinner yet?"
"We might as well go down," Riddle sighed.
"I don't suppose I could convince you to levitate me down there?" Hermione asked plaintively.
"Not unless you want to be dumped on your arse every third step," came Riddle's tired reply.
A halfhearted smile was all she could produce in response to Riddle's roundabout admission that he was just as tired. They were so exhausted that any spell requiring prolonged concentration was as daunting as one of Hercules' twelve labors. Again, Hermione wondered just what Dumbledore expected them to do this evening. Mechanically she plodded down the hall and into the Great Hall. After taking their customary seats at the High Table, Hermione concentrated on the business of eating. Nothing seemed appetizing but she forced herself to eat. With all the energy they were expending, food was essential. When Dumbledore finally tapped Hermione on the shoulder to gain her attention, she sighed and pushed aside her date pudding.
"I believe we should go to my office," Dumbledore spoke and with extreme reluctance, they followed the Head Master.
In typical Dumbledore style, they were quickly ensconced in the chairs before the Headmaster's desk and sipping cups of cocoa. Hermione wondered exactly why Dumbledore was purposefully finding reasons not to begin their lesson. Usually the kind of delaying tactics he was using were reserved for particularly annoying Ministry officials. The dotty old man routine was really getting old.
If the atmosphere in the office had been less tense, Hermione might have actually drifted off to sleep. She was pleasantly warm from the crackling hearth and the cocoa was rich and comforting. Suddenly, Hermione longed for their common room and the end to the day's trials. The impatient tap of long slender fingers on porcelain made it clear Riddle wasn't impressed either. She hadn't really expected to take Dumbledore's antics well.
Hermione could tell that Dumbledore was watching them closely. What he could see beyond exhaustion she didn't know. Whatever it was that he was hoping to find, Hermione hoped that they wouldn't have to wait much longer. Her patience was fragile to say the least. Once the mugs of cocoa were drained, the Headmaster finally stood from behind his desk.
"Now that our dinner has had a chance to settle, why don't you show me what I had you practice during your break?"
The familiar process of touching and then directing her magic washed away some of Hermione's disquiet. Under her careful control her aura grew visible and magic collected at her fingertips. Carefully, she concentrated it in her right hand and then brought her left six inches from the other. With a careful push sparks of magic arched from her right hand to the left. Hermione then reversed it so that magic collected in her left hand and arched to the right. Several minutes of that and she was panting.
What they were doing was beyond simple magic. Instead, they were condensing their magic into its raw and purest form. Then they directed it outwards and reabsorbed it into themselves. All week they had been working at the different steps involved in the process. The results spoke for themselves. Riddle's eyes were nearly fully clouded with red and her own hair crackled and snapped like a live wire.
"Very good," Dumbledore said with obvious pride. "Now cup your hands and pool your magic in them."
Hermione did as instructed and was surprised to see that Dumbledore did the same. Hesitantly, Hermione glanced at the Headmaster's eyes and found them glittering like a thousand stars. The sheer power she could feel made her stomach flip. Before now, every time Dumbledore had shown his true power, Hermione had been in the middle of battle and she'd had no time to feel the full brunt of the magic he could summon. Strangely, Hermione felt the intense desire to reach out and touch Riddle. Brought up by that strange urge, Hermione forced herself to look away from Dumbledore.
"Tell me, Miss Granger what you just felt," Dumbledore asked in an even tone as he reduced his aura.
"I-I'm not sure-"
"No need to be bashful, Hermione. It is important," Dumbledore replied gently.
"I wanted to touch Riddle," Hermione admitted in an undertone.
"I dare say that you both felt he urge to touch when I summoned my power. It is an instinctive reaction to the presence of possible danger."
"In what way?" Tom asked sharply.
"Now Tom, I know you would have guessed some of the alternate uses for a bond such as the one you and Miss Granger possess," Dumbledore chided.
The younger wizard stiffened and Hermione frowned. She wasn't a fool. Hermione had noticed Riddle's interest in how they had been able to sense the other's magic. It didn't take her long to guess that the bond could be used to argument their magic in a way that was usually reserved for ritual magic. Such magics were designed so that people could combine their magic for a single purpose. That was how Diagon Alley had been concealed from muggles and how the Founders had created Hogwarts. Ritual magic was one of the few ways that a witch or wizard might wield more magic than what they were born with.
That made the magical enhancement they'd received from the bond all the more impressive. Such increases in power usually required much more than the small price they had paid. Hermione was well aware that many witches and wizards turned to the Dark Arts for such boosts. Even then, the results were so unpredictable and dangerous that few were mad enough to try.
"What if I have?" Tom challenged.
"He wouldn't be the only one," Hermione added with a stubborn look, refusing to pretend she wasn't just as curious.
Riddle shot her a look of surprise and Hermione responded with a look the wordlessly scolded him for thinking she was that dense. The flash of frustration that passed over the Slytherin's face made Hermione grit her teeth but she purposefully turned away from Riddle and refocused her attention on Dumbledore. If Riddle wanted to argue later, he was welcome to but now wasn't the time.
"Is that why you've been working us so hard?" Hermione asked. "So we're too tired to experiment on our own?"
"I admit that was one consideration," Dumbledore replied.
"And the others?" Riddle followed up.
"Ah, well, that is what I intend to get to with today's lesson."
"Then why don't we proceed," Riddle hissed with aggravation.
"Certainly," Dumbledore agreed with infuriating cheerfulness. "Now reach out the hand that you've focused your magic into. Good, now touch hands."
The order surprised Hermione. Both Dumbledore and Snape had told them not to touch so that their concentration or the flow of their magic wouldn't be disturbed. Her mind flashed to how she'd wanted to reach out to Riddle earlier, just as their palms touched and then it was too late. Whole body jerking ridged, Hermione struggled to regain control of her mind. An excess of magic was a deluge upon her senses. It was too much, too fast and Hermione couldn't tell if it was pain or pleasure. Distantly she heard Dumbledore speak but it was nothing to the rush of power as it equalized between them.
A hysterical giggle spilled from her throat. Hermione felt a little giddy, full to the brim with magic. It was like champagne bubbles, tingling and swirling inside her. Scarlet streaked eyes met hers and Hermione felt the magic within her ripple in response. A dazed grin appeared on Riddles face and she giggled again. He groaned and Hermione remembered well that pleasure filled sound. Eddies of magic shuddered through them, its pull growing more insistent.
Absorbed by the flow of magic along the bond, they never noticed the stupefy spells sent their way.
Waking up for the second time in bed with Tom Riddle was nearly as traumatic as the first time. Hermione felt her pulse skyrocket and she desperately tried to remember what happened. To her dismay, Hermione found her memories rather incomplete. She calmed somewhat when she noticed the slightly numb area on her shoulder that signified that she had been hit by a stupefy spell. It was a sensation that Hermione had become familiar with after many an hour of dueling practice. Her mind was also set at ease by the fact they were both still dressed.
Once certain that her virtue hadn't been further compromised, Hermione looked about her. Much to her displeasure, it was the same room they had woken up in after the bond was created. Hermione guessed it had to be Dumbledore's guest bedroom. Deciding that the only way she'd get answers, Hermione began to slide off the bed. She had only made it a few inches when she realized her hand was still linked with Riddles.
Embarrassed by the contact, she tried to slip her hand from his. Hermione was horrified when their hands remained locked together. Attention drawn to the appendage, Hermione realized it ached fiercely and her muscles were painfully cramped. Riddle's fingers were compressed about her hand as much as hers was and no matter how Hermione tried, her joints wouldn't unlock.
"Riddle," Hermione called. "Riddle, get up!"
Between the girl's cries and how she was about shaking his arm right off, Tom returned to consciousness rather quickly. That he couldn't free his hand from her insistent grip informed him exactly why Granger sounded as if she was half-way to panicking. Not that he was much better until he realized his clothing was firmly in place. Dumbledore had to have dumped them in the room. That was yet another affront to remember. The room they now occupied brought back memories Tom would rather forget.
"Calm down, Granger. Our muscles have just cramped. Let me try something?" Tom said and drew his wand and cast a charm that should have relaxed their grip.
"Damn, what did we do to ourselves?" Hermione growled with frustration, as their hands refused to loosen enough to pull free.
"It helped a little. We'll have to do the rest the hard way," Tom sighed.
As he worked to loosen his fingers with his other hand, Tom considered what had happened. His memory was clear until he'd taken Granger's hand. What he did remember set his temper alight. Yet again Dumbledore had withheld information and let them stumble along blindly. Tom hardly liked being coddled but being lied to, even by omission, infuriated him. Methodically massaging a particularly tense finger into relaxing, Tom glanced at Granger.
How would she react to this latest development? If she took Dumbledore's side it would take a miracle for him not to curse her. Of course, Granger certainly didn't look happy. That he could use to his advantage. If he was careful, he could put a wedge between the old meddler and his pet mudblood.
"What was the last thing you remember?" Tom asked as his fingers finally loosened.
"A feeling of euphoria," Hermione began, prodding her memory to produce something solid. "I was being filled with magic and I almost felt like I would go mad if I could release it somehow."
"That's a good way of describing it," Tom replied flatly.
"I suppose we were knocked unconscious by Dumbledore."
Her words were filled with the distress she was frantically trying to hide. Awkwardly, Hermione rubbed at her hand. Her fingers ached with cramps and bruises were beginning to appear where Riddle's fingers had clasped hers. She expected that he'd soon have his own matching set. Each pain was a testament to the latest fracture in the trust she held for Dumbledore. No, it was something far more difficult for her to grapple with, that was bothering Hermione. Her faith in the Headmaster had been sorely tested by his less than honest actions regarding the bond. It hurt to know that when it was most important, Dumbledore had yet again withheld information.
It was clear that Dumbledore had anticipated a reaction at least similar to what they had experienced. She knew why he had stunned them. Given their mental state, they probably would have caused a lot of damage otherwise. Hermione mentally flinched at the thought. Maybe knowing what to expect wouldn't have changed anything. The euphoria she'd felt was unlike anything she'd ever know. That wasn't the point, though. It was a matter of trust and Dumbledore had betrayed her... their, trust again. Hermione looked up at Riddle.
"You're angry," Hermione whispered.
"Do you really expect anything else?"
"No, I suppose I didn't."
"You can't expect me to believe that you're not angry with that old fool!" Riddle growled.
"I am angry with him. I just don't know what to do about it."
"Unlike you, I'm not going to wait around for Dumbledore to use me again," Riddle said with heat.
"I never said-," Hermione began but she clenched her jaw around her angry words. "Do you really think I like this any more than you?"
A bitter laugh followed her words. Hermione flinched at the sound, knowing it echoed her own feelings far too well. She was angry at how they had been treated. They weren't pawns on a chessboard or dolls to be positioned and directed. It hurt to think Dumbledore saw her like that. The worst thing was that Hermione had no idea why Dumbledore had done it. What could be gained by lying by omission? He'd promised to be honest to them after the last time. Didn't he trust her or her judgment? Hermione had to bite her cheek to repress tears.
"We can't not do anything, Granger."
"He distracted us," Hermione admitted suddenly.
"What was that, Granger? When?"
"When we first began he mentioned alternate uses for the bond. Dumbledore purposefully distracted us to avoid explaining the alternate uses. We also never asked why we were compelled to touch when he radiated his aura."
Riddle swore and Hermione found her eyebrow rose in response. Voldemort had disdained to use profanity and Riddle seemed to avoid it too. That he swore and swore so vividly, took Hermione by surprise. She was almost compelled to laugh that something so base and vulgar would pass such pretentious lips. Following his outburst, Riddle took out his wand for a second time. With the ease that Hermione knew only came from long practice, Tom cast a complex privacy ward about them. She shivered a little at the sensation of Riddle's magic but did not protest the need for the spell.
"He neatly herded us into defending ourselves against natural curiosity and then moved on to another topic before we could question him further," Tom reasoned bitterly out loud.
"Not that our knowing makes a difference," Hermione said softly.
"Doesn't it? We know there is something else he's hiding from us. When will you get tired of being his lapdog?"
"One thing you should know by now is that I'm nobody's lapdog!"
"Well, you're doing a very convincing impression," Tom retorted and then shook his head.
"Then what do you think we should do, Tom?" Hermione asked through the lump in her throat.
"Great Slytherin! Tell me you're not about to cry, Granger!" Tom hissed with disdain.
Rough hands pulled her around and bit into her shoulders. The burning Hermione felt in her eyes only seemed to worsen. She was horrified at her lack of control and the weakness she was showing. Looking into Riddle's disgusted face Hermione felt her hurt solidify into something else. How dare he judge her? Dumbledore had never been someone he'd trusted with his life. Riddle couldn't understand how hard it was for her to have someone she had admired and cared for betray her. Furious, Hermione tore herself from his grip and pushed him back a step. The look of satisfaction Riddle shot her, suggested that was exactly what he'd wanted.
"Just... shut up, Riddle!" Hermione spat.
"I will when you refuse to let Dumbledore use us any way he pleases."
"When did it all suddenly depend on me?" Hermione retorted.
"Now you're being purposefully obtuse. If you hadn't noticed, I am the chattel in this arrangement. Dumbledore is not likely to heed anything I say."
"Somehow I doubt he'll listen to me if he hasn't already, Riddle. If you hadn't noticed I've already told him I won't tolerate being lied to, or kept in ignorance. So far it hasn't done a blasted thing!"
"Then so much for your speeches about how we have to work together," Tom mocked.
"Excuse me?" Hermione blurted out, aghast. "This has nothing to do with our truce or working together."
"No, Granger, that is where you're very wrong. This has everything to do with it. Our little alliance is built on nothing more than trust. So far, when that trust is put to the test, I'm conveniently forgotten and you dance to Dumbledore's tune."
"You're saying I've betrayed you?" Hermione said in shock. "That is mad. Name one occasion!"
"The current situation would be a perfect example but I can think of others. The first, when Dumbledore told us he'd set his portraits spying on us."
"I didn't know about that, Tom. You know I didn't!" Hermione defended, angry at his accusations.
"You let him get away with it," Tom interrupted. "We both know the portraits are probably still reporting to him."
"What else could I do?" Hermione snapped. "The portraits can't be removed by students and besides, you've just proved that you know concealing spells."
"You still held me back!"
"Not that again!" Hermione cried in annoyance.
Somehow Hermione had known that would come back to haunt her a second time. Keeping Riddle from acting on his temper in Dumbledore's office had been necessary. Hermione just didn't understand why Riddle didn't understand that. Weren't acts of necessity part of the Slytherin house philosophy?
"Yes, that again!" Tom hissed. "It is the perfect example of what I am trying to hammer through your thick skull. You keep assuming the best of your precious Headmaster, when all he does is betray your trust. Even with evidence to the contrary!"
"And cursing him would have been a better choice," Hermione retorted with all the contempt she could muster.
"That's not the point. If this alliance, this bond, truly mattered you would put it first, not Dumbledore. I won't be treated like a house elf, Granger. If this is to work between us, then our first priority has to be to each other."
The clipped words made Hermione physically flinch. For a long moment, she deeply resented Riddle. He had flung her own words and resolutions in her face and then essentially dared her to be a hypocrite. The worst thing was that she couldn't deny what he'd said. Hermione had known that they would have to compromise and sacrifice. She'd accepted that like a true martyr to the cause. Conveniently, she'd overlooked the rest of what their bond and truce implied.
If the truce was to work, then she couldn't serve two masters. She had to make a choice. Already, Dumbledore had proved that he would try to manipulate them in one way or another. Even if it was supposed to be for the 'greater good', Hermione had come to the end of her forbearance. All of a sudden, Hermione felt very cold and very alone.
Could she turn her back on the Order for such a selfish reason? Already she had sacrificed so much. Surely that had to count for something! The war was over. There were no oaths that she would break by placing her own survival, and perhaps the hope of some happiness, above duty. With the defeat of Voldemort, the oaths she'd sworn to the Order had dissolved. Technically she was still a member but the binding ties between her and the Order were severed. She was now free to pledge her loyalty elsewhere if she chose.
Hermione took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her recent conversation to Ginny seemed to haunt her. Despite all of Ginny's protests she had remained firm in her decisions. She had chosen her path. Perhaps, given how staunchly she had defended both herself and Riddle, she had known it would come to this... even if she hadn't wanted to admit it before.
"You're right," Hermione said.
The flash of hastily concealed triumph on Riddle's face made her stomach clench. He was right but Hermione would be damned before she let him use that to manipulate her. Hermione wasn't blind to his double standard. He railed at Dumbledore for his manipulative ways and yet indulged in the same behavior. The difference was Hermione had expected no better from him. With her, Riddle hadn't pretended to be anything but the proverbial serpent hiding in the grass. He'd won a concession from her but she would have one in return.
"The bond, you, should be my first priority... my first loyalty," Hermione began. "Just as it should be the same for you."
"What are you saying, Granger?" Riddle asked, suddenly cautious.
"If I am to renounce all other loyalties before our bond and the truce, then you must do the same."
"You would take my word?" Tom asked with skepticism.
"I'd take your oath," Hermione corrected.
"A blood oath? Are you certain?"
Tom's mind whirled with the implications. That he had pushed the girl this far was beyond his wildest dreams. The sheer glee he was feeling, over seducing away Dumbledore's precious mudblood was dangerously intoxicating. It would be so easy to let his victory go to his head but he knew he had to tread carefully with Granger yet. Besides, he wasn't so quick to blindly accept an agreement enforced by a blood oath. They already had one blood magic tying them together. Tom had to give her credit; he hadn't expected her to think so well on her feet.
"You said our truce relied on trust only. This will give you the guarantee you so greatly seem to desire," Hermione replied easily.
"It would go both ways, Granger. Exactly what oath were you considering?"
"An oath of loyalty. We would forswear all other ties before ours now and in the future."
"You Gryffindors never go halfway," Tom remarked lazily.
It was a tempting bargain, Tom knew too well. In one grand gesture, Dumbledore would lose Granger and she would be his. Tom could only imagine how sweet it would be to see the old fool's face when he found out! Of course, Tom hadn't anticipated forging yet another bond between himself and the Granger girl. They were already bound closely, although their existing bond was nothing like what was being suggested. Also, unlike what Dumbledore had done to them, creating a second bond was his choice, his decision. It was also something that would benefit him.
Still, a bond of loyalty was no small thing. All of his plans had been tentative but Tom hadn't ruled out contacting those still loyal to his older self. The bond the girl had in mind, would prevent him from ever regaining control of his Death Eaters. That was a rather large disadvantage, but there were always ways to work around such things.
The bond would also render Granger all the more easily manipulated. A loyalty oath would make her look after their interests before anything else and Tom fully intended to take advantage of that fact. There would be no more subtle manipulations of Granger's sympathies by Dumbledore and no lingering loyalties to his Order to sway Granger away from him. Hermione would naturally expect the bond to have a similar effect on him. It would but it wouldn't have the hold it would have on Granger. She was, after all, an essentially honest person, while he was... not. Lying, even to himself, was second nature.
"Very well, do you want to swear now?"
"We'd best do it now. I don't want to give Dumbledore a chance to interfere," Hermione said with more courage that she was feeling.
"Traditional wording?" Tom asked.
"I think that would be best."
Her handkerchief was easily transfigured into a knife. It glittered in her hand and Hermione wondered if she was mad. She knew what this would mean. What they were about to do amounted to a C class bond. If it was accompanied by a legal document that detailed specific requirements, then it would be considered a class higher, but a C class bond was still very binding. Nervously, Hermione summoned from memory everything she knew about blood enforced loyalty oaths.
Loyalty oaths were not uncommon in the wizarding world. Often they formed between business partners or between masters and apprentices. Most loyalty oaths, however, were more specific than the one she was about to swear. They usually were sworn so that they only bound a certain aspect of the participants' lives. General or specific, they worked in the same ways and Hermione was comforted in that knowledge.
The loyalty oath would make certain several things. Most importantly, no formal alliance could take precedence to their own. They would be forced to place their mutual interests first and no future alliances could be made without both their agreement. Any past contracts or oaths of lesser strength would be rendered invalid. The bond would also prompt them to keep in mind the other's interests. Finally, the bond could not be dissolved unless they agreed or a bond of greater strength rendered it invalid.
The oath would neatly sever Riddle's ties to his Death Eaters and prevent Hermione from being swayed by either Dumbledore or the Order. Perhaps it was a slightly melodramatic gesture, but Hermione knew that anything less would be shaded by doubt. They needed certainty and the oath would provide it. The logic was clear, as were the advantages, but Hermione still found her heart skipping beats with nervousness. Knowing it was necessary, Hermione lightly sliced her palm. Handing the blade to Riddle he too slit his palm. As one, they crossed their wands and linked their bloody hands together.
"I, Hermione Anne Granger, pledge my loyalty by wand and blood, to Tom Marvolo Riddle, now and forever."
"I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, pledge my loyalty by wand and blood, to Hermione Anne Granger, now and forever."
Magic crackled and heat burst between their joined hands. Their wands surged and Hermione's vision swam. As the magic faded, her legs turned to water and she found herself slumping to the floor. Riddle too sank to his knees, panting. Clearly they were not as recovered from their 'lesson' as they had thought. Her hands trembled but Hermione checked her palm. The cut was gone and so was the blood. Not even a scar remained to suggest what they had done unless they a spell was used to verify the bond's existence. In that case, the lingering magic used to create the bond would cause the flesh to glow where the cut had been made.
"We should confront Dumbledore, I suppose," Hermione sighed.
"Yes, we should. I doubt he'll be pleased," Tom said in a vastly satisfied tone.
"He won't be and I don't have the energy for either lectures or more 'lessons' tonight."
"Then you'll have to be firm. We can't allow him to stall us. Tell him we'll work out the rest on our own."
"I think I've worked out how we can block out the other's magic, anyway," Hermione replied reluctantly.
When they'd touched hands under Dumbledore's direction, Hermione had felt his magic in her. She had also felt her magic rush inside of Riddle. It didn't take a genius to guess that she could block his magic by reaching out and caging it with hers. Whether this would always require skin to skin contact would remain to be seen. Something that Dumbledore had been right about was that they would not be able to use their magic for anything else. Hermione also guessed it would take some degree of concentration, at least at first.
"So you made that leap of logic too. Good, then we can dispense with that manipulative old man and practice on our own."
"We'll also have to some research to find out what Dumbledore isn't telling us," Hermione added.
"The work will be worth it. We wouldn't want the old fool to have the advantage," Tom agreed with a nasty grin.
"Not for this, anyway," Hermione said softly.
"Feeling guilty, Granger? Or are your Gryffindor sensibilities rebelling against siding with a Slytherin?"
"I'm not feeling guilty," Hermione defended. "And I'm heartily sick and tired of petty house rivalries. Don't you find it ridiculous that so much is determined by the personality traits we show at eleven years old?"
"How refreshing, that you didn't jump to the Hat's defense. It is, after all, Godric Gryffindor's creation. As for my opinion on the matter; I believe that there is much to be said for the Hat's ability to read the human mind. Not that we should ignore the process of indoctrination that each student goes through once they join their house but we're being sidetracked, Granger."
"True enough," Hermione admitted, scrambling to her feet, more surprised by Riddle's response than she would ever let on.
The twinkling eyes of the Headmaster made Hermione want to throw something. Did he think they hadn't realized he'd held back again? Following Riddle's lead, Hermione didn't sit down or speak. The silence dragged on and finally the twinkling began to dull. Hermione was annoyed to find that she felt a pang of guilt. Ruthlessly she pushed it aside. He was the one to break their trust and she refused to let him play her again. She glanced at Riddle who seemed to be enjoying himself enough for the both of them. Hermione's tiredness seemed to double.
"I see you're well. I was beginning to wonder if you would sleep the night away," Dumbledore finally spoke.
"There were a few things Riddle and I needed to sort out between us," Hermione replied evenly.
"Indeed?"
"Did you know what we would experience when we touched?" Hermione asked.
"I would be lying if I said I did not," Dumbledore admitted without ado. "I assure you that it was necessary to stun the two of you. Being unprepared for the experience, a great deal of damage could have been done."
"I see. Are you aware that us being unprepared was partly your doing?" Hermione returned.
"I thought it better that you experience it without any preconceptions. Given that the way the bond was created, the results could have been very different. I also fear that any warning would have been futile. That aspect of the bond takes time to control."
"I can understand your reasoning, Headmaster but I can't agree," Hermione said firmly. "I told you that there was only so far we could be pushed and asked you not to do it again."
"I sympathize with your feelings of frustration but some things are simply necessary," Dumbledore replied gently.
"I never really understood Harry's position before," Hermione remarked softly. "Of course, my oath to the Order is fulfilled and shortly I will no longer be a student here."
"Miss Granger, I apologize if you felt I have been too overbearing. I have only tried to help you in the way I know is best."
"I realize that," Hermione allowed and then took a breath. "You chose me to be Riddle's guardian. In doing so you trusted me to know how best to deal with the consequences of the bond. You haven't allowed that. Instead you keep meddling. The truce that Riddle and I have created can't exist in such conditions."
"I see..."
Dumbledore's customary vibrancy seemed to dull. He sat back in his chair and ran his hand over his beard in consideration. Hermione felt her heart ache at the regret she could see in the old wizard's face. The anger she'd felt upon waking faded but she was left with the certainty that what she was about to say was necessary. She had to make Dumbledore understand she was serious about her commitment to the bond and that she was no longer at his beck and call.
"To insure its success we have sworn our loyalties to each other. That will insure that outside forces do not cause undue influence," Hermione spoke simply. "Thank you for your instruction, Headmaster, but it will no longer be necessary."
"I assume this is also what you want, Tom?" Dumbledore asked with a raised brow.
"Most certainly," Tom purred.
"You are correct, Miss Granger, that I did, and still do, trust you to do what is right with this bond. You see, I do realize how much the both of you had sacrificed to create this bond and I merely wished... Well, forgive me for trying to shelter you, far past the time I should have." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I am certain you will quickly master what remains to be learned about the bond."
"Thank you, Headmaster," Hermione responded softly.
"Will you still allow the Order to regularly contact you?"
"I would appreciate that," Hermione said honestly. "We simply desire the freedom to make what we can of our lives."
"And that is most freely granted," Dumbledore said with sad fondness.
Tom had to admit that Granger knew how to make a stand. For all that the discussion had concluded on a somewhat saccharine note, the old fool's expression when Granger informed him of their oath, was a memory to treasure for years to come. It was slightly disappointing that Granger allowed Dumbledore's Order to continue to monitor them but Tom suspected Dumbledore would have sent them anyway. Regardless, when he had hoped to place Granger at odds with Dumbledore, he hadn't anticipated such a triumph.
As the conversation ended, Tom moved beside Granger resting one of his hands at her waist. As he had anticipated, his movement did not go unnoticed. Tom gave the old man a satisfied smirk as they began to move towards the door. He relished the trepidation he read in Dumbledore's gaze. Yes, let him let him know he'd taken his precious mudblood out of his reach and let him wonder what would become of it.