A/N: Thanks to the following: Tokyo no Ecchi, All-American Vampire, 404, Reanne1102, Katsheswims, PhanPhic-adict, PapayaCrazy, Gaerwen, Mrs Pierre Bouvier, Emi-Bum, shadowglove, and Vera-Sabe. Speaking of my wonderful friend, Vera-Sabe, she brought something to my attention that I felt needed explaining. The diary that Voldemort had was a duplicate, not the one Harry had in CoS. See, that one Harry destroyed was the one Voldemort preserved himself in, the other, that he had Wormtail bring him and the one that the words disappeared from was just another like the other that was there only for normal diary purposes of memory recording. Thanks again!
Now, read on and enjoy...
Chapter 16 – Distasteful Detentions
"Ron... wake up!" Harry hissed. "It's time to leave."
Ron rolled over groggily and looked at Harry and a red headed girl next to him. It was Ginny and she was folding Ron's clothes and tossing them into his trunk. Ron sat up in bed and kicked back the covers, showing that he was still fully clothed. He slid out of bed and stretched and yawned as Ginny stood there holding his newly shrunken truck while tapping her foot impatiently.
"C'mon Ronald!" Ginny hissed as she shoved the trunk into his jacket pocket and grabbed his hand.
They sneaked out of the boys' dorm, through the common room, and out into the seventh floor corridor. They quickly threw Harry's cloak over them, but Ginny spotted something wrong with this. She tapped Harry hard on the shoulder and pointed to their feet which weren't covered completely by the cloak. Ginny pulled out her wand and pointed it at the cloak, Harry's eyes growing wide as he wondered what she was going to do to his father's cloak.
"Engorgio!" Ginny whispered, causing the cloak to grow to twice its size.
Now they could stand up and space themselves more. The cloak falling all the way to the floor now and hiding them fully. Harry smiled at Ginny who tucked her wand back into her jeans before they set off through the castle. They came to the statue of the one-eyed witch and entered the passage way inside her hump which lead to Honeyduke's cellar.
"Be quite," Harry shushed as he pushed the trap door in the floor of Honeyduke's open.
The cellar was dark and deserted all except for a great number of boxes which held hundreds of sweets. They were making their way to the stairs when they heard the rattle of paper. They froze and turned slowly to see that Ron was no longer under the cloak, but now digging in a box of candy wands.
"Ron!" Harry and Ginny hissed in unison.
Ron jumped and ran across the basement, running right into the other two. Ginny smacked his arm hard as Harry lifted the cloak and let him back under it. They made it upstairs and into the man part of the shop without any further trouble. Then came the hard part. They had to shrink the glass from out of the window and keep it from breaking so that they could exit the shop without leaving evidence that they were there.
Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the glass, ready to shrink it. Ginny pulled out her wand as well, ready to keep the glass from hitting the ground after it shrank.
"Reducto!" Harry cast at the glass.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ginny said quickly. The glass, which had been falling out toward the sidewalk, stopped and floated back into the shop as the three of them ran across the shop.
They climbed out the window and replaced the window before running down the street toward the train station. There, they met Moody, McGonagall, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Each took hold of one of the adults and side-along Apparated to the spot on the sidewalk between Number Eleven and Number Thirteen Grimmauld Place. To Muggles and anyone who didn't know of the Order's hideaway, Number Twelve was invisible, but to the eye Order members, it was there all along.
Harry, Ron, and Ginny entered behind Kingsley, Moody, and McGonagall and were quickly swept into a crushing hug by Molly Weasley. She ushered them to the stairs and shooed them up there, telling them to settle in and go back to bed until breakfast started. Meanwhile, Shacklebolt and Moody entered the kitchen while McGonagall followed Harry and Ron up to their room.
There on the wall inside Harry and Ron's room was the frame that was made for Phineas Nigellus Black. But this wasn't who was in the frame. Instead, a smiling, half-moon bespectacled, white-bearded man stared down at them. It was Albus Dumbledore and he went into a hushed conversation with McGonagall immediately after she entered the room.
"Yes, My Lord," Fenrir Greyback growled as he and the other Death Eaters in the room swept low in bows before leaving.
Voldemort turned to Wormtail and smiled maliciously. He got out of the bed, turning to a battered wardrobe that stood in the corner of the room. He opened the doors and pulled out a regal looking black cloak with an embroidered crest upon the crest. It was a skull with a snake protruding from the mouth. The cloak smelled of old and was extremely dusty. It showed as Voldemort tossed it over himself and turned to Wormtail.
"I think that it is time that we make our presence felt at the Ministry, Wormtail," Voldemort hissed.
Wormtail nodded fervently and soon Disapparated with his master and the snake, Nagini. They reappeared in an alley in a down and dirty side of London. Just outside the alley was a phone booth. Voldemort blasted the booth out of his way and dropped down into the hole where the dingy red booth once stood, Wormtail close behind.
Screams echoed inside the Ministry's Atrium as Voldemort walked down the hall. The wizard at the desk where all visitor must check in their wand, dropped behind the counter and began calling for Aurors to report to the Atrium. Voldemort was unbothered by this. He continued down the hall, fear radiating off of him and striking those around him. He entered the lift and smiled as he set his destination of Level One: The Minister of Magic's Office.
Days faded away and soon it was Friday, and much to Hermione's displeasure, she had a detention to serve. She left the Gryffindor common room and headed for the trophy room. She sighed and entered the room, feeling that tonight was going to be a long night, but probably longer than she had anticipated because there, leaning on a trophy case, was Tom Riddle.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione grumbled as she walked over and picked up a can of polish and a dirty old rag.
"I have a proposition for you," Tom said casually as he walked up and peered over her shoulder. "Let's put these down," he continued as he put his arms around her, grabbed her hands, and forced her to put down the polish and rag. "And close this door."
He waved his wand and a gust of wind issued from the point of it, shutting the door across the room. He waved his wand again and the lock clicked as Hermione swallowed silently with a growing fear. He walked around to face her fully, a smirk on his face as he handed her a packet of papers. She slowly looked away from him to the papers in her hand and frowned. The Phantom of the Opera.
"I'm sorry, Tom, but I've got cleaning to do," Hermione said quickly as she handed the papers back to him, but he wouldn't take it.
"I'll help, don't worry," Tom said as he pointed his wand at the nearest glass case.
The door to the case flew open and rags flew out of a bucket in the corner of the room. The rags dipped themselves in the can of polish and flew over to the trophies which they started to polish. Hermione turned to Tom who smiled and then looked to the script in her hand before standing up straight and pulling another script from inside his robes.
"Now... let's practice!" Tom exclaimed cheerfully as he walked past Hermione to the center of the room. She groaned and turned to him, flipping the pages of the script to the first scene between Christine and the Phantom. "We'll let you start... it's only fair. Ladies first."
Hermione looked down at the script and stared at it for a moment. She then looked over her shoulder to the enchanted rags polishing the large gold trophies. Her mind beat wildly for her to walk over, grab one of the rags, and start polishing, but this was her chance to get to Tom. 'You just need to do this, Hermione' she told herself firmly as she could.
She looked reluctantly back to the script and then up at Tom. She took a deep breath, returned her eyes to the line on the page that she was to start with, and cleared her throat. 'You can't stall much longer' a voice in her head hissed. 'I know' she though in annoyance.
"No. Raoul, wait," Hermione muttered.
"Alice," Tom chuckled as he walked over to her. "More feeling. Bring a deep and emotional voice up from your abdomen," he coached as he put a palm on her stomach.
She flinched and closed her eyes tight as she swallowed and prepared to say her line once more.
"No. Raoul, wait!" she said again, this time with much more feeling.
"Better," Tom purred in her ear as he walked away. "Insolent boy! This slave of fashion, basking in your glory!" Tom sang forcefully, as though angered. "Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!"
"An-angel! I hear you! S-speak – I listen...," Hermione said, her voice faltering. "Stay by my side, guide me! Angel, my soul was weak – forgive me... enter at last," Hermione continued. She paused for a moment and Tom cocked his brow waiting for her to finish the line. "Master," she mumbled.
"Alice... come now," Tom encouraged. "If you're like this with just you and I doing this, then how will you feel once you are on stage?" Hermione shook her head and stared at the script. 'He's right. You have to be brave!' "Now... let's continue," Tom said before going to back to singing. "Flattering child you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide! Look at your face in the mirror – I am there inside!"
"Angel of Music! Guide and guardian! Grant to my your glory! Angel of Music! Hide no longer! Come to me, strange Angel," Hermione melodized.
"I am your Angel... Come to me, Angel of Music," Tom called sweetly.
"Tom! I don't think that we can finish this," Hermione pointed out quickly. "We don't have Leo to say Raoul's line. Too bad!"
"We can skip that line... so then it would be to me," Tom passed nonchalantly. "I am your Angel of Music... Come to me, Angel of Music," Tom continued as he approached Hermione.
"I-I um... you know, I-," Hermione stuttered.
"Your line is: In sleep he sang to me," Tom started.
"In dreams he came," Hermione picked up in a timid singsong way. "That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name. And do I dream again? For now I find, The Phantom of the Opera is there – inside my mind."
"Sing once again with me, our strange duet," Tom chorused in Hermione's ear as the lights in the room dimmed.
Hermione looked around frantically, but Tom grabbed her chin and made her look at the script. She closed her eyes and prayed for the lights to come back to full brightness, but all that happened was Tom's voice continue filtering harmoniously into her ear.
"My power over you grows stronger yet. And though you turn from me to glance behind," Tom serenaded. "The Phantom of the Opera is there – inside your mind."
"Those who have seen your face draw back in fear," Hermione sang, figuring her best bet would be to just get this practicing over with quickly so that she could leave. "I am the mask you wear."
"It's me they hear. My spirit and your voice in one combined. The Phantom of the Opera is there inside your mind."
"Your spirit and my voice in one combined. The Phantom of the Opera is there inside my mind," Hermione sang along with Tom. "He's there, the Phantom of the Opera..."
"Sing, my Angel of Music. Sing, my angel. Sing for me. Sing, my angel. Sing for me! I have brought you... to the seat of sweet music's throne. To this kingdom where all must pay homage to music. Music, you have come here for one purpose, and one alone."
Hermione watched Tom come around to the front of her, taking her hands in his. She felt his cold fingers wrap around her shaking ones. She dared not look at him as she felt his eyes calculating her. She shivered inwardly and tried to swallow back her fears as she fought off the urge to run.
"Since the moment I first heard you sing. I have needed you with me to serve me, to sing for my music – my music," Tom whispered as he stepped closer to her.
Eyes closed tight, Hermione listened to his voice surround her. It was a wonderous sound that both enchanted and frightened her. She felt relaxed and tense all in one moment. She wanted it to go on forever and end all in one second. Her brain was becoming a literal land mine of contradictions.
"Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation... Darkness stirs and wakes imagination... Silently the senses abandon their defenses. Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor. Grasp it," Tom serenaded as he squeezed her hands in his. She opened her eyes, his continued to stare down at the fall scripts on the floor as he continued. "Sense it – tremulous and tender," here he rose his hand as though t touch her face, but hesitated.
It was like he was afraid to touch her. He lingered for a moment, his cold, pale hands ready to touch her light pink cheeks. It was like ice caressing the most beautiful pink rose petal when his finger finally made contact. Her skin to him was warm peach cream that tingled below his frozen glacial touch.
"Turn your face away from the garish light of day, turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light - and listen to the music of the night," he whispered as his fingers lifted her face, making her eyes gaze upon him.
She stared at his face. It was cast with a light yellow glow on one side, making his features a bit darker on the other. His eyes were ebony domains where one could lose themselves instantly. She gaped slightly, innocence playing at her every feature. He backed away from her and she stood there, rooted on the spot, lost to everything around her.
"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams! Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before! Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!" Tom sang.
He stepped forward toward the beauty in a dream-like trance. She closed her eyes as he disappeared behind her, his breath her only way of knowing just where he was as it moved through her hair and danced on her neck. She shivered and he ran his hands down her arms to her hands, lacing his fingers in hers.
"And you'll live as you've never lived before...," he whispered in her ear. "Softly, deftly music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it secretly possess you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight - the darkness of the music of the night..."
He ran one hand back up her arm as he walked back around to the front of her. He was encircling her just as his voice was. She opened her eyes and saw him looking upon her intently. She felt her breath catch in her throat and she pulled her hand from his as he went on singing to her.
"Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world! Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before! Let your soul take you where you long to be!" He stepped forward and his hands cupped her face as he cooed to her, "Only then can you belong to me..."
She became frightened in that moment. She tried to turn, but his arms moved swiftly and wrapped around her waist, holding her to him. He leaned down, purring gentle, melodious words in her ear once more.
"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!" Tom's hand ran down and back up her thigh. Her breathing became rapid as his hand moved up her side and along her arm, finally stopping as he grasped her hand in his. "Touch me, trust me," he whispered as he put her hand on his face.
His face was smooth and her fingertips tingled as they ran down his jawline. She turned to him, her heart beating madly in her chest. He brushed his knuckles gently on her cheek as he lilted to her with a voice of liquid sweetness.
"Savor each sensation! Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write - the power of the music of the night..." Tom was dangerously close now and his eyes were no longer locked with hers. Instead, they were on her lips. "You alone can make my song take flight. Help me make the... music... of the... night," he mumbled as he leaned down.
Blood pulsed in Hermione's ears and her head spun. She pushed Tom back and shook her head as though shaking cobwebs from it. She gulped and looked around the room as the lights flared back to life.
"Alice?"
"That's not in the script!" Hermione snapped, partly out of breath.
"Yeah, well, you didn't have any trouble snogging Leo Witte the other night at the Quidditch pitch," Tom snarled.
"What! How do you know about that?"
"That's not the point right now," Tom hissed. "You've crossed the wrong person, Alice Granger."
Tom pulled out his wand and stabbed it in the direction of the trophies. The rags that had been polishing them stopped. A dust pan from the corner went soaring at an alarming speed across the room and dumped itself on the newly polished gold. Hermione gasped and stamped her foot as she glared at Tom.
"That was uncalled for!"
"You missed a spot," Tom growled meanly as he walked past her, trodding on the scripts as he went.
Hermione looked in frustration to the trophies and sighed as she heard the door open. She started over to the can of polish and rag she had earlier, jumping as she heard the door slam shut.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Inside the Ministry! screamed one headline. Escape from Azkaban another said in big bold lettering, under which held a page full of pictures, most of which were known Death Eaters. Dementors Join You-Know-Who! It was pandemonium in the wizarding world.
Voldemort's Death Eaters had rallied the Dementors to his aid and freed the imprisoned Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy and Walden Macnair being some of the ones freed. Mass chaos roamed the cities. Muggles and magical folk alike were being attacked, many killed after refusing to join Voldemort. Yet this wasn't the worst of it. The Daily Prophet had gotten wind of a supposed attack that was going to happen on Hogwarts to jump start the raging war.
"No such event will happen under the eyes of Rufus Scrimgeour, our brave, courageous, and brilliant Minister," Percy Weasley was quoted as saying in response to the threat of attack on the school he now governed.
"He's a complete fool," Ron had grumbled one night at dinner at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. "I hope those blokes give him a good ringing."
This resulted in Mrs. Weasley getting quite upset and leaving the room. Ginny scolded Ron before cleaning up his dishes, which he wasn't quite through with yet. And the Order was looking quite discouraged.
They had been in the Ministry every day, trying their best to recruit some more members for the Order to fight. They had told people that they needed to take action immediately, but things weren't looking good. It would seem that the wizarding world was falling into despair.