Author's Notes: Thanks to my reviewers, Tiamat Warcraft, The Enchanted Teakettle, blueforest, lilith, All-American Vampire, and LavenderBrown77. And the gold star goes to blueforest, for first pointing out Lynx and Lamb – yes, they are the neo-Nazi singer twins, (think Mary Kate and Ashley gone BAD!) and my parallel between pure-blood snobbery and racism.
You all will recognize direct HBP events in this chapter…and the beginnings of changes in the timeline. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe; JK Rowling does.
Chapter 12
Strength and Retreat
March turned into April. For most of her spare time, Honora was in the library with Kay, Damaris, Willow, and sometimes the Gryffindor girls. They had a table claimed as 'theirs', next to the Charms section, in a sunny spot. Apparation lessons were also being held, although Honora did not attend them since she already knew how to Apparate. The first test was held in Hogsmeade in late April.
Kay was exceedingly nervous about it, and seemed convinced of her own failure. Honora could not exactly tell Kay her own story of Apparating from Siberia under immense pressure, but she did say that it was not hard if you concentrated enough.
'Come on, you're a Ravenclaw! You'll probably show up everyone else,' Damaris added encouragingly. That was not quite the case; Kay did fail the test when she left the heel of her shoe behind.
Damaris again invited Honora to stay with the Turpins at their country home for the holidays, and this time Honora accepted. Damaris would be having several parties over the summer, and Honora did not really have anywhere else to stay. Kay would join them for a month, as well.
Professor Dumbledore came to her in May with a preliminary list of that year's beneficiaries of the Crowley Memorial Scholarship Fund. The bulk of the money was in Gringotts, gathering interest, and Honora and Dumbledore had been made joint trustees. Honora saw that three wizarding orphans would be invited to Hogwarts for the 1944-45 school year; all three were refugees from Grindelwald. It filled her with a warm, fuzzy feeling that she was responsible for the whole thing.
Honora also had a good feeling about her chances for Head Girl. She had the highest marks in Ravenclaw, and that was saying something. Only in Herbology did she have an 'Exceeds Expectations' mark; the rest were still 'Outstanding.' If exams went well, Dippet was sure to make her Head Girl.
Slughorn held another dinner in May. He invited Honora, of course; she was now one of his favourite students. Damaris attended, as well. Kay had sent them off with a roll of her eyes and thinly-disguised snort. Conversation that night was mainly an argument between Portia Whimsey and Antonin Dolohov over the benefits and drawbacks of Ministry regulation of underage magic. Slughorn had provoked the argument and then sat back with a satisfied air as his students duked it out.
Honora, who was of age herself, did not care one way or the other, and instead concentrated on her Yorkshire pudding, whispering funny comments to Damaris under her breath.
After dinner, however, things got serious when Tom Riddle and the Slytherins followed Slughorn back to his office for a look at Slughorn's custom-ordered serpent themed cauldron. Honora decided to seize her opportunity for a little intelligence-gathering, and as she walked down the corridor with Damaris, she quickly made up an excuse about having left her favourite quill behind.
'Go on without me,' Honora said, 'I'll catch up in a minute.'
'Okay, if you're sure,' Damaris said with a shrug.
Honora waited until everyone from the dinner was out of sight, then crept back down the Potions corridor toward Slughorn's office. The door was slightly ajar, and a crack of light shone through from the inside. Quietly, Honora brought her face closer. She could just barely see into the office, while keeping out of the light.
The Slytherin boys were lounged around in chairs or on the floor, while Slughorn intoned about something or other. Riddle was sitting in casual elegance, his long fingers draping from the arm of the chair. The large black and gold ring was clearly visible. She could see Dolohov and his other friend, Lestrange, on either side. Their talk seemed harmless, and Slughorn was being his usual benevolent name-dropping self. Tom Riddle was clearly Slughorn's favourite student, probably ever.
After thirty minutes of crouching outside the door, Honora had a major cramp in her leg and was starting to feel bored and very tired. The noise of chair-scraping suddenly began; the company of Slytherins was getting ready to leave. She could hear Slughorn chuckling happily. He had definitely had at least six glasses of wine.
Suddenly in a panic that she would be discovered, Honora stood up straight and looked around for a hiding-place. She did not want to contemplate the consequences, if a bunch of Slytherin boys should discover her eavesdropping. The corridor was dark, and Honora tiptoed quickly to the next door recessed into the stone wall. She pressed herself back into it, hoping that she was correct in thinking the Slytherin dungeon was in the other direction.
Honora was right, luckily; the boys filed out of the office, talking and joshing. She peeked her head in their direction. Riddle had not come out. When the other Slytherins were safely away, she crept back towards the door.
'—wanted to ask you something.' Riddle was saying, deferential, hesitant, trusting.
'Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away,' she heard Slughorn.
'Sir, I wondered what you know about…about Horcruxes,' Riddle said, his tone a perfect blend of humility and caution.
Horcruxes! Honora bit back a gasp. Riddle was trying to find out about them. A thousand thoughts flew through her head: he must not have made any Horcruxes yet, even though he had already killed at least three people; he was trying to find out about Horcruxes, how they work and how to make one (or seven!)…Honora had to stop it. Slughorn was clearly tipsy and was about to tell him something very, very bad.
Honora braced herself. Then she knocked on Slughorn's door, three times, forcefully, interrupting their conversation.
Silence drifted from inside the office. Then she heard Slughorn say 'Er, yes? Come in, come in.'
Honora pushed open the door and took two steps into the office. When she saw Riddle's face, she wanted to run away screaming. His black glare pierced through her, his flawless features marred by a look of incandescent hate or anger or frustration, or a mix of all three. She could feel waves of malevolence coming off him, pulsing through the air. Oh my God, he's going to kill me, right here, right now,' she thought frantically.
Slughorn, on the other hand, looked relieved to see her. 'Honora, my dear! How nice to see you! Come in,' he boomed.
She took another hesitant step forward. What excuse could she give for coming to Slughorn's office? Her mind raced through the dinner conversation, trying to come up with something. All the while, Tom's eyes were boring into her. She could see the muscles of his jaw clenched. Apparently he had been working up Slughorn into telling him about Horcruxes, and Honora had completely ruined his little moment.
'I, um, I was just…' Honora fished around.
'Mmm?' Slughorn tilted his rotund face at her.
'I had a question for you at dinner, but I didn't get a chance to ask. What with Portia, and Dolohov, and their arguing, and whatnot…' Honora kept stalling, then she came up with something. 'I was wondering about the, um, the antidote to mild love potions! Yes! See, my friend, I think she may have been given a love potion by this fifth-year who is obsessed with her, and I'm worried about her health.'
'Love potion, eh?' Slughorn placed his hands together. He seemed happy to wax eloquent on love potions instead of Horcruxes. 'Well, the most obvious sign is the vacant expression…' he went on, explaining.
Honora nodded as he went, pretending to be intensely interested.
Tom Riddle was going to kill her.
'Does that help, Miss Crowley?' Slughorn finished.
'Oh, yes, it does, thank you so much, sir,' Honora said.
'Right then, I must get some rest. Out with you both, now!' Slughorn clapped his hefty hands once, smiling beneath his bristling blonde mustache.
Tom and Honora left the office together. The corridor was dimly lit, and deserted. She prayed fervently that Tom's rage had subsided while Slughorn had been talking about love potion antidotes. They walked along in heavy silence, Honora biting her lip, her pulse hammering in her ears. The brightness of the Ravenclaw common room seemed an eternity away; she repressed an urge to take off running, leaving Tom behind her. Their footsteps echoed down the dark hallways, unspoken things hanging between them, Honora conscious of every move she made, every step she took, thinking each might be her last.
After an age of walking, they reached the staircase that led up toward Ravenclaw Tower. Honora expected, and hoped, that Tom would turn toward the dungeons. Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulders and whirled her against the stone wall, his hands pressing into her, his body dangerously close. Honora let out a squeak of pain and surprise, feeling pinned by his intense gaze, by the frantic hatred written across his white face.
'What--?' Honora stared up at him. Then she felt Tom's presence in her head, hard and angry, assaulting her mind, looking for her intentions…she slammed him out, as vigorously as she could, marshalling her forces of mental defence. 'How dare you,' she said. 'Stay out of my mind.'
'Who taught you Occlumency?' Tom asked coldly.
'Who taught you Legilimency?' Honora returned.
'It's not your concern,' he said, stepping away, his eyes still shooting daggers of wrath and mistrust at her.
'Likewise, then. Good night.' Honora turned on her heel and ran up the stairs to safety, afraid to look back.
Once she was inside the portrait hole, she breathed a long sigh of relief. There was Ash, and Jamie, playing chess; Lawrence and Damaris on the sofa in front of the fire. Kay was finishing an essay for Transfiguration. Everything looked so normal and warm.
Honora felt she had had a near-brush with death.
She collapsed onto her bed, reviewing what had just happened. So Riddle had not yet made any Horcruxes. Of course, that was not to say that he wouldn't still. But at least Honora knew that Riddle had not yet taken the final step toward evil; if she killed him now, there would be no Horcrux to ensure his survival. It was a small relief, considering how he must hate her. He'll probably use MY murder to make his first Horcrux, she thought crossly, as she drifted off to sleep in the security of the Ravenclaw dormitory.
After Honora had interrupted the conversation with Slughorn, and Riddle had attempted Legilimency, they had avoided each other entirely. Only once, Honora had caught Riddle's eye, during their Potions class, and the memory made her shiver. In his dark stare she had seen warning, threat, malice…the realisation had hit her like a ton of bricks that Riddle considered her an enemy now. She could not imagine a more perilous situation for herself, and it was all her own fault.
Publicly, Riddle pretended she did not exist, in a way that was almost insulting, a social cold-shoulder. He never did anything so petty as to show open antagonism to her; Honora was quite sure the other students did not even notice the sudden cold gravity between herself and Riddle. However, even if his outward appearance was innocent perfection, Honora felt certain he would take his revenge on her at the soonest possible opportunity, and her deepest instincts told her to be very careful.
She started making sure to have friends with her at all times, whenever she was outside of Ravenclaw Tower.
As Honora spent the last weeks of term studying for her final exams, she also worried about what Tom would get up to over the summer. Now that he had probably lost his chance to ask Slughorn about Horcruxes, Riddle would undoubtedly try to find out from some other source. Ugh. Now I have to worry about Riddle's SUMMER and keeping Riddle BUSY so that he doesn't turn EVIL. It was too much for a seventeen-year-old witch. Honora wanted to be shopping in Diagon Alley with her friends, and catching up on her magical theory reading, and figuring out what she was going to do with her new lease on life.
In the end, April Gaius, the fifth-year Slytherin girl, unwittingly gave Honora an idea as to what to do about Tom Riddle. April ran into Honora after a tense Ravenclaw-Slytherin Quidditch match (Slytherin had won, thanks to Riddle's superb Seeker skills). April had asked, almost snidely, whether Honora would be taking advantage of her own Memorial Fund to stay in Hogsmeade over the summer. Honora had said no, but it got her thinking. She turned to the one person she knew she could trust: Albus Dumbledore.
After a Fizzing Whizzbee this time, Honora sat back in Dumbledore's office and explained her troubles as honestly as she could. 'You see, Professor, it's just that I'm a little bit worried about Tom Riddle. You know, the Slytherin prefect in my year?'
Dumbledore nodded and leaned forward slightly in his chair, sharp blue eyes trained on her.
'I overheard him trying to ask Professor Slughorn something about Horcruxes.' Dumbledore's eyes widened in alarm. 'I don't know what Horcruxes are, but Slughorn seemed to think they were really Dark magic…anyway, I just thought if Riddle's going to be Head Boy, probably, then maybe someone should take a hand to keep him out of trouble.'
'I see,' Dumbledore sat back, slowly. He ran a hand through his auburn beard, looking more than a little worried. 'Yes, I agree with you. Mr. Riddle has always had a tendency toward…certain things. How nice that he has you to look out for him.'
'It's not that, exactly,' Honora hedged. 'I just thought since Grindelwald is still on the loose, we should be careful. And if Riddle is Head Boy…'
'And you think you will most likely be Head Girl,' Dumbledore added with a little knowing smile. 'You don't want to be sharing a common room with a Dark wizard.'
'No, not that!' Honora could not help but smile too. Apparently her ambition to be Head Girl was no secret to Dumbledore. 'Anyway, I thought since Riddle qualifies for the Crowley Memorial Fund, maybe it could be used towards an apprenticeship for the summer. You know, just to keep him busy.'
'You, in the meantime, will be where for the summer?'
'Oh, Damaris Turpin's family has invited me to stay. They have a huge library, I'm going to be catching up so that I'm far ahead of everyone for my seventh year,' Honora laughed.
'Good, good. Well, Miss Crowley, thank you for telling me about young Tom Riddle. I'll see what I can do.'
'Thank you, Professor. I appreciate it.' Honora shook Dumbledore's hand as she left.
'Oh, and Miss Crowley, one more thing,' Dumbledore said. Honora turned. 'You are sure you don't know what Horcruxes are?'
Honora regarded him for a moment. 'I'm sure,' she lied, keeping her mind closed. 'And I don't think I want to know.'
'Let's not be speaking of them again, then,' Dumbledore said. 'Good afternoon,' he finished with a little wave.
A/N: Please take a moment to review, and tell me what you thought! Next update is on Thursday.