Warning: Mama bear… Mama lioness…? Mama bear-lioness Hermione ahead.
Been around, I've survived among the best.
Cold hearted but I'm human,
There's a heart still beating in my chest.
If you challenge anybody that I love-
I'll cease your breath.
Alduin hummed in interest at the flock of white peacocks freely roaming the grounds of Malfoy Manor from the window of the parlor room. In Mr. Malfoy's insistence, he invited him to his home on the notion that he would love to hear the music that impressed his wife so much she felt obligated to buy him his bows.
Despite the obvious discomfort over the man's aristocratic face, Alduin just smiled throughout the conversation and accepted his invitation without question.
Within the pocket of his short trousers, he rubbed the prickly piece of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and the smoother Sote with his fingers. The latter was the first artifact his mother showed and allowed him to use. By whispering a specific location to the marble-sized item, a portal will appear wherever it's been thrown, allowing the user to jump to the designated area regardless of where they are. His mother hadn't told him how she made it but she mentioned it had something to do with a Diricawl- a flightless magical bird native to the island of Mauritius in the Indian Ocean that can apparate at will. She made him promise to have one on his person at all times and to use it only in cases of emergency so he can return home safely.
Alduin looked away from the window and took another once-over around the room. It's his first time inside a mansion. Neither he nor his mother are particular with such luxurious fineries. They're more interested with magical artifacts and books.
His mother told him to never receive or go anywhere with anyone suspicious, but she also told him to seize every opportunity presented to him. So there's no harm done since he's just practicing what she said, right?
Although to be fair, he didn't expect to be in contact with Mr. Malfoy so soon.
From his other pocket, Alduin took out a pack of chocolate frog. With practiced accuracy, he plucked the enchanted treat mid-leap with his free hand while with the other, flipped the card in the pack and saw the familiar face of Albus Dumbledore.
'Again?' Alduin rolled his eyes before deciding to throw the pack and card at the fire at the hearth he had floo'd from.
He stared as the flames ate the material with the squirming frog still trapped between his fingers. The image of the old wizard had disappeared the second the heat touched the card. Personally, he preferred the cerulean blue of his mother's flames. On one night, as he laid on his bed, he asked his mother to tell him a story and she told him about the time she and her brother once saved a man's life from a werewolf and a horde of dementors, and how they both rode on the back of a hippogriff. He laughed along with her when she told him how afraid she was of flying. She told him that story using her flames as a visual and transfigured them to play out the scenes. He fell asleep watching a flaming hippogriff flying circles atop his bed with two figures on its back.
Since then, he became determined to conjure the same flames as she does. Flames that she never needed a wand nor any hand or finger movement to cast; flames whose heat she can control. When he asked about them once, she told him it was a charm she was fond of using as a child which she modified in her teens. As it turns out it was easy for her since she had a natural affinity for fire.
Alduin had just bitten the chocolate frog's head when he heard a soft hissing sound behind him. He raised a brow as he turned around towards the door left ajar by the Malfoy couple when they excused themselves to 'talk'.
"Well, hullo," he greeted with a grin at the massive head of a reticulated python as it slithered up the back of a nearby armchair. Alduin bit the upper torso of the frog.
"Another kinspeaker… curiouser and curiouser…" it hissed as it flicked out its forked tongue towards him, "Your scent… is familiar and not…"
"Really now? How curious indeed," Alduin replied. The sibilant words tumbled out of his lips as naturally as English.
It stared at him for a long moment. Even as it moved its body around the armchair more comfortably, its unblinking eyes never once strayed from his own onyx pools.
Alduin popped the last of the frog in his mouth and licked his fingers clean.
"I am called Nagini. What is yours, little one?" she introduced with a dip of her raised head that now met his eye-level, showing off more of her large size. She can probably eat him if he was smaller.
Alduin however, was pleased at the snake's display of polite manners. He stepped towards Nagini with confidence and placed a hand over his chest before dipping his head down in the same level of curtsy as he did with Mrs. Malfoy.
"Pleased to meet you, Nagini. My name is Alduin Granger."
"Al-du-in…" the snake hissed loudly, enunciating each syllable of his name, "you have a very powerful name."
"Thank you, Nagini. My dearest mother named me that," he beamed, "I like your name too."
.
Tom appeared at the apparition point right outside the large, wrought iron gates of Malfoy Manor with nary a sound. His dark handsome face was twisted with a deep frown. His teeth gnashed together in barely-concealed rage as he continued to hold his wand in a white-knuckled grip that could've snapped it in two if it wasn't as strong and as faithful towards him.
Without a single pause in his stomping steps, his magic flared over the manor's wards and allowed him entry instantly.
Burning gold behind russet irises flashed in his mind's eye and his magic answered with an explosion of a random bust he passed by as he made his way inside the house.
He couldn't help but think about what had just occurred a few hours ago
First, there was her unusual defense against legilimency. Most occlumens would erect walls upon walls, some are even designed as labyrinths against invaders. It had always been walls. Whether they be the weak kind or thick and imposing decorated with thorn vines and brambles, it was always the same. And walls are meant to be broken down.
However, the witch's mind was a sea of flames that only grew hotter the more he tried to wade through.
He only realized belatedly that the heat did not only affect him mentally but physically as well.
It was… creative.
How did she do it?
Unless she has perfect control over fire, that kind of defense would've also burned her.
She was able to resist his legilimens, and provoked him into a duel.
His blood boiled in his veins at the result of their fight. Not only was she able to meet him head-on with curse for curse, she was able to escape from him… HIM! A feat no one has ever been able to do unless he allowed it to be.
Was it apparition? No. He didn't hear the telltale sound nor did he feel the minute twist of magic in the air for jumping through space. The use of the Instant Darkness Powder may have incapacitated him for a moment but he was sure his stunning hex hit true, but where did she go? They were fighting at a dead end with the wall to her back. Even if she managed to jump over the walls he had blown up to break free from the spell she used to suffocate him with his own shield; he had spent hours searching around Knockturn. For surely, she wouldn't have gotten far?
But she did disappear. As if she was never there.
There's also the revelation that the cantankerous witch was a practitioner of dark magic. He recognized those dark spells as those that can only be seen from ministry-banned, Burn-on-Sight books of several countries. Books of which he had difficulty or luckily acquired during his travels 'meeting' with other dark wizards and witches.
He knew her to be an unordinary witch. If Alduin's ring and bag was anything to go by. He had expected her to have dabbled in the dark arts but this was beyond his expectations.
However, out of all his ruminations, only one thing stood out to him the most.
She knew him.
The moment he said his name, her eyes widened with a hint of an emotion he knew all too well from the eyes of others- Fear.
Although it was odd how she was not able to recognize him in the beginning, the fact remains that in the end, she knew his name.
But one question still remained: why doesn't Tom know her?
This might be giving the witch too much credit, but until he's absolutely certain, he will look into this situation in every angle possible. Could that witch actually have done something to his memories? How else could he explain how he couldn't remember anything about her? Let alone for her to be able to conceive.
Tom continued to march his way to his suite, his magic thick and suffocating around him.
"My lord?"
He paused momentarily to send Abraxas a side glance. He didn't miss the way the Malfoy head's eyes widened at the sight of him.
Tom always made sure to make himself look neat and impeccable. The first respect given to a person is based on how they clothe and carry themselves after all. Unfortunately, Tom didn't exactly come out of his skirmish with that witch unscathed. His clothes were in disarray; there were cuts, both big and small, all along his robes from stray hexes that managed to get past his shield; and there was a noticeable singe on his forearms from when he initially protected himself from the fire.
That, too, he needs to look into that as well. How was she able to conjure those flames non-verbally and wandlessly? He has never seen that spell before. He had been working to do the same thing with fiendfyre. Why is hers blue?
Abraxas visibly gulped from where he stood a couple of feet from him, "T-There's someone whom you must see-"
"Not now," Tom growled between gritted teeth. The rush of battle still made his blood and magic sing. He was absolutely in no mood of entertaining any of his simpering followers.
It had been a long while since he needed to put effort into a fight like that.
"B-but-"
"Do you have trouble hearing, Abraxas?"
Red flashed behind his eyes in irritation, effectively making his old 'friend' back off.
Tom had one hand on the railing of the grand staircase when Abraxas suddenly blurted, "It's the boy, sir!"
The raven-haired paused as if he had been frozen from where he stood. There could only be one person he could be referring to.
"What about him?"
"He's here, my lord, in the manor."
"You managed to bring him here so soon?" he snorted before he slowly turned to fully face the blonde. One corner of his lips tugged ever so slightly in amusement, "Well color me surprised. And how, exactly, where you able to get him here?"
Surely, Abraxas wasn't stupid enough to have kidnapped the boy? There was a reason he wanted to deal with Alduin on his own.
Abraxas kept his head down both in deference as well as to hide the way his face paled at the question, "My w-wife, my lord. She was the one who had contact with him."
"Oh?" Tom drawled without bothering to hide the dangerous lilt in his seemingly casual tone, "And just how did dear Serafina came to know about him, hm?"
He made it explicitly clear that no one outside his inner circle should know about Alduin's existence and his connection to him. This included their wives, closest friends, and even their children. Tom did not need people talking unless they want their tongues cut off permanently.
"I swear I never told her about him, my lord!" Abraxas defended hastily, "She met him at Carkitt Market. In a store called Concordia Plunkett Musical Instruments. She was at Finn's Finest Fineries looking for new jewelry when she told me she heard someone playing very lovely music. She was so impressed she bought the boy bows for his violin. We agreed to meet there and that's how I was able to meet him. I swear she knows nothing about the boy's connection with you."
"Music?" Tom's brows furrowed, "And just how were you able to bring him back here?"
"I… invited him over, my lord," he answered, sounding unsure himself, "I told him I'd love to hear his music that impressed my wife so much at the manor with a promise of tea and sweets."
"And? He just came willingly? Surely that can't be all there is. What else did you say?"
"I-I swear, my lord. That was all."
His brows furrowed deeper. Tom could always tell whenever someone's lying to him, and despite the obvious uncertainty, there was no lie in Abraxas' voice. In fact, it seemed he was also perplexed at the circumstance.
Which only spoke volumes for Tom.
Was he wrong in his assessment of Alduin? If the boy's anything like him, then he should know some self-preservation. Surely, he knew better than to just go to a stranger's home and let himself be lured with sweets like some gullible child from a muggle fairy tale. Not to mention his ring alone was proof enough that his mother was quite protective of him. No. The boy is smarter than he shows.
Then that could only mean he wanted to come here.
"Where is he?"
"We left him in the parlor, sir. We took him here through the floo."
"I see," he clicked his tongue, "Make sure he stays there. I'll see him shortly. Oh, and Abraxas?"
"Yes, my lord?"
"Is dinner ready yet?"
Abraxas blinked owlishly at his strange question, "I'm… sure the elves have already prepared something… Shall I have one send a meal to your suite?"
"No. I'll call for them."
Tom returned to his suite to do a quick change out of his clothes. All the while his mind whirled of the impending meeting with his bastard son.
Truthfully, he did not anticipate meeting the boy's mother in Knockturn Alley so soon. He had planned of lying-in wait at her chosen apparition point outside the plaza to confront her. As luck would have it, she was brought to him on a silver platter when she entered Borgin and Burkes just as he thought of paying his old employer a 'visit'.
He knew it was her the second she came in. That wild mess of brown curls were a dead giveaway.
'Typical', he thought with a roll of his eyes when she stopped in front of one of the shop's glass cabinets with her eyes glued to the necklace.
He was admittedly disappointed at her interest in jewelry, that was, of course, until she alluded that there was something more to the necklace than meets the eye. More than just highlighting the wearer's physical appearance. Can she sense it too? That peculiar dark pulse he had only felt on a handful of artefacts throughout his life?
No, he definitely didn't expect to meet her so soon, let alone duel against her. And now, by some sick twist, he was going to meet his bastard son in a few moments.
How… utterly convenient.
Shoulders squared and more composed than he was a few minutes ago, Tom approached the parlor room where Alduin had been obediently staying for more than an hour already.
He turned the knob gently and paused at the sound of the boy's laughter.
"That story amuses you?" he heard Nagini hiss.
"Of course, it does. That was absolutely brilliant of you!" came Alduin's enthusiastic sibilant words.
"Thank you, snakelet."
It made Tom grip the knob tightly. He pushed the door further until he could fully see the boy and his familiar. They were in front of the open fire at the hearth, as if keeping themselves warm. Alduin was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed while Nagini had her massive body coiled around in a mass behind him. The boy was leaning back on her while she had her head resting on his lap.
They looked so comfortable and they were conversing with each other as if they were old friends.
"You have really nice manners, Nagini. I like that. It's more than I could say with most people," Alduin said conversationally.
"And you, as well, little one. You are not as bothersome as most human offspring."
Alduin smiled gratefully, "Why thank you. My mother taught me it pays to have proper manners. I also would not want to dishonor her for being a crude, ill-mannered son."
"You speak very highly of your mother."
A softer smile graced his lips this time as he stared into the fire, "Of course I do. She is kind and warm and takes very good care of me. I am… very fond of her. Especially since we only have each other."
"If you say so, then she must be someone worthy of respect."
"She does, and she's very powerful too," he looked down on the massive snake head on his lap, "Would you like to meet her, Nagini? I promise she is not prejudiced against snakes, and her magic is the best music in all the worlds!"
"It would be my utmost pleasure to meet the honorable mother of the young lord," she hissed reverently, "May I ask, where is she now?"
"Out hunting. I do hope she comes home soon. She's been gone since morning."
"You always mention your mother, little one. What of your father?"
"I don't have one," Alduin answered without a single pause, "Speaking of which, Nagini, have you eaten yet?"
"Nagini."
At the sound of his voice, Alduin turned his head around towards him. His practiced polite smile now plastered on his face, whereas Nagini raised her head from the boy's lap to greet him.
"Hullo, Mr. Riddle," the boy greeted as he rose from where he sat.
Tom stared at him for a moment before narrowing his eyes at his own familiar, who has yet to uncoil and return to his side like she would usually do whenever he returned.
He hissed, "What is this?"
If the boy was surprised of him speaking in parseltongue, he didn't show.
Nagini hissed loudly as she circled around Alduin, raising herself up till her head was almost lying over one shoulder.
"Alduin… Snakelet, master…"
Tom's jaw tensed at her answer, turning his sights back at the boy who only stared back unflinchingly.
Must he look so much like him?
"Alduin," he started, "You must've waited long."
He casted a glance at one of the side tables where an empty plate (that had once been full of tarts based on the sort of crumbs left behind) and teacup was laid forgotten.
"A little," Alduin said humbly, "but Nagini here had been a very pleasant company."
"How wonderful," he said dryly as the boy caressed the massive snake's head with the back of his hand without a hint of fear.
"Although, I admit I was expecting either Mr. or Mrs. Malfoy to fetch me. I was beginning to think I came here for naught," the boy smiled pleasantly.
"I apologize on their behalf. Something came up that required their immediate attention."
Truly, Abraxas had to explain to his concerned wife why they had to bring the boy to their home. An act that almost equated to kidnapping him.
"Ahh, how irresponsible of them, to leave me here on my lonesome. Although, they did keep their promise of giving me sweets," he shrugged, "So no harm done, I suppose. Furthermore, I was able to meet Nagini."
"You should not speak ill of the owners of this manor, boy."
Alduin met his stare head-on, "Yes, but they're not the ones who lord over this house, do they, sir?"
"No, I suppose not," Tom had to grit his teeth to suppress the smirk at the boy's insinuation. He taunted, "Didn't your mother tell you not to go with strangers and accept anything from them?"
"Yes," he nodded firmly but didn't elaborate further.
Seeing as he has no intention of saying anything else, Tom took out his pocket watch and feigned looking at the time for conversation's sake.
"Well look at that, it's almost time for dinner. Would you like to join me, Alduin?"
"I would like that," his dark eyes glinted and his smile widened at the mention of food. He casted a quick glance at the snake beside him, "Can Nagini come too?"
Tom looked between his familiar and the boy. He wasn't sure what to make of the immediate bond that was forged between them. Surely, they just met. Was it because the boy was also a parselmouth? He remembered how snakes also easily followed him around as a boy. But Nagini was no ordinary python. Her loyalty towards him should've took precedence among everyone else. Was it because she knew Alduin was his son?
"Sure," Tom answered, and watched as he held the door open for Alduin and Nagini- who slithered faithfully beside him, before taking the lead to the meeting room.
The short trek had been silent, save for their light footsteps. Once inside, Tom waved his hand at the hearth to start the fire, and then to the long table to shorten it for a couple of chairs. Without pause, Tom took his seat at the head, garnering him an inquisitive look from the boy who wisely chose not to question it.
"Won't Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy join us?" Alduin asked once he gave him permission to sit, to which he chose the other end of the table.
"No. I asked them to leave us alone."
Alduin hummed, "How generous of them. You must have quite the influence, don't you Mr. Riddle?"
Instead of answering that, Tom called for a house elf whom introduced herself as Dusty. When he ordered the creature to set up a meal for two, the subservient creature bowed to him reverently with the same level of respect as her Malfoy master, but not before doing a double-take when her huge eyes caught sight of the boy. While the house elf was clearly in shock, Alduin just smiled and even waved a small hand towards her in greeting. Dusty sputtered before disapparating away. It didn't take long for them to wait as the house elf reappeared and set each of them a plate of freshly grilled venison and pumpkin soup.
Both Tom and Alduin ate silently. The former kept his eyes on the boy like a hawk, while the latter ate nonchalantly as he savored the meat with an appreciative smile on his face. He also made note of the boy's practiced use of cutlery, foretelling him that he was brought up better than he thought for having a no-named single mother. All the while, Nagini kept silent at her place in front of the fireplace.
Tom finally broke the silence once dessert came in. One which Tom refused while Alduin enthusiastically delved in with unabashed glee like the child he was.
Seeing the boy's wide grin reminded him that Alduin was still just a boy; and that uncensored joy on a face similar to his made his own stomach churn once more.
"How did you get here, Alduin?"
"Mr. Malfoy invited me here. We came through the floo," he answered before shoving another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.
Tom felt his eyebrow twitch, "No. I meant, how were you able to get the attention of the Malfoys?"
Alduin hummed and continued eating a bit more as he thought of his answer.
"My mother taught me to always keep an open ear, sir, and I happen to have a very good memory," he began, and his tone shifted from cryptically snooty to being a prideful know-it-all, "I don't like crowds, but in places like Diagon Alley and Carkitt Market, where the everyday hustle and bustle of commonfolk happen, people tend to talk. When people talk, they gossip, and in those gossips, names are easily mentioned. Hypothetically, let's say some shopkeeper had been praised for knowing everything about everyone in Wizarding Britain, and because they like to act humble, they mention another name that happened to be Mr. Malfoy. Then it just so happens, another shopkeeper, this time, a certain Mr. Raoul Finn, happened to mention acquiring a newly imported gem to show off to a certain Mrs. Malfoy who has a habit of coming to Carkitt Market every fifteenth and last day of the month to check new arrivals and to be updated on latest trends. Not only that, but it seems they mention that Mrs. Malfoy has a certain taste for music that I happen to provide. And because I happen to be an adorable, little boy, they feel secured at talking about anything to each other. Hypothetically speaking, of course."
"Yes, hypothetically."
Brilliant.
Tom had to steeple his fingers over his mouth to hide the smirk that broke from his face upon hearing the boy's explanation. He was then reminded how he used to do the same as a boy. He'd do anything to get out of that damned orphanage, and if that meant listening on to useless drivel to know whom to grab favors and run errands for, he'd do it.
"You're a sharp one," Tom complimented his son for the first time.
"Mother and I like playing puzzles. She said that every piece, no matter how insignificant they look, fits somewhere in the grand picture," he said as if that answered everything.
His brows furrowed at being reminded of that insufferable witch, "Indeed."
"I think this is the part when you ask what you really wanted to ask me from the start, Mr. Riddle," Alduin said as he licked the last of his ice cream.
Bossy brat. He must've gotten that from his mother.
"Why are you here, Alduin?" he relented.
Alduin once more stared straight into his eyes, "Isn't it obvious? I wanted to meet you again, Mr. Riddle."
Tom knew there was a reason the boy targeted the Malfoys specifically, and he had just confessed to it. It was true, Abraxas knew almost everyone in Wizarding Britain. His sources run far and wide, and is especially thick in the Sacred Twenty-Eight and those of great influence and power. Tom's guidance and Abraxas' family's immense wealth made that possible. If he were to give an educated guess, the boy must've planned of getting information about him by getting close to Serafina through music. He wouldn't even be surprised if she had already fallen for the boy's charms. And knowing Abraxas' fondness for his wife, it wouldn't be long for him to get what he wanted.
Begrudgingly, he had to give credit where credit was due.
"Pray tell, why would you want to meet me again?"
Alduin answered almost immediately, "You're intriguing, and I am very curious about you, sir. You're also very funny."
Funny? Him? Tom's brows furrowed deeper. How in the bloody hell was he in any way funny? He then remembered their first meeting in that alley where the boy outright laughed at him. Alduin called him funny then as well.
However, before Tom could ask, Alduin continued with a question, "Did it surprise you, Mr. Riddle, to meet another parselmouth?"
His jaw tensed. If his eyes flashed crimson, Alduin made no indication of noticing nor did he care. The boy was too smart for his own good. Did he know he was his father? Did his mother tell him? If so, how much did she say? The boy already has a mastery in talking that befit the Slytherin House, and a part of Tom just wanted to shake him to get the blatant answers right out of him.
He had never tried using Legilimency on a child before, but there's a first time for everything, isn't there?
"Did you?" Tom asked instead.
"No."
'So he does know about his heritage to some extent,' Tom concluded. The way he casually talked with Nagini, his ring, and the fact that he knew what the language of the snakes is called is proof of that. But why would he go out of his way of meeting him himself? The boy's either really brave or reckless. Did he think he would be able to endear himself to him?
Instead of answering, Tom's eyes locked with his son's equally void-black pools and casted a silent legilimens. With the masterful swiftness, sharpness, and accuracy of a snake, Tom slithered into Alduin's mind with careful consideration only because he didn't want to indispose the boy until he got what he wanted.
Unbeknownst to him, the emerald eyes of Alduin's ring glowed in reaction to his invading magic.
He had expected a jumbled world, perhaps even a gallery of adequately organized memories given the boy's level of maturity and intelligence, but instead, Tom found himself inside a white void full of thick fog. It was freezing. Alduin's mindscape was empty, and when he pushed himself forward, Tom was met with a giant wall hundreds of meters high that continued even through the fog and clouds above.
Tom felt his hand on the wall, intending to break his way through, but something made him pause.
The wall. It wasn't made of rough stone nor was it decorated with brambles for added protection. Instead, it had a smooth, almost glossy feel to it. It also had a silver sheen, almost opalescent, despite the absence of any direct source of light.
Perplexed, Tom reversed his steps and that's when he noticed the familiar alternating pattern of a reptilian body.
He had been touching a giant snake scale.
In the blink of an eye, the wall moved and slammed against him.
Tom felt his chair tilt back as he returned to reality. There was a harsh throbbing on his forehead as if he had been physically hit. His hands gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white. He couldn't care less if his eyes had turned completely red as molten magma coursed through his veins in anger.
His legilimency had been thwarted—again.
Tom glared at the boy across the table who mirrored his intense grip over his own chair.
A fierce scowl twisted across Alduin's face as he, too, glared back at him in irritation and without fear. It was the most genuine expression he's ever shown him.
"That… wasn't very… nice," Alduin growled between pants.
His once bottomless eyes were now shining with the burning golden glow of an exploding star.
Then, the entire Malfoy Manor shook with great intensity.
.
He and his mother were having a picnic. It was such a beautiful summer day. Out in the rolling hills of France with the sun high in the sky, they ate over sconces and sandwiches, they pointed and laughed at clouds taking various shapes, and his mother read while he napped on a huge blanket. Then while she was teaching him how to make flower crowns, he discovered a colony of puffskeins. He laughed and giggled as he chased them around the field until he strayed a few ways away. There was a small muggle village there, but what made him pause was the small family of three smiling together.
A mother, a son, and a father.
He stared at them with an impassive look on his face until he heard his mother call for him. Alduin raced back to her without a single glance back.
Bloodlines are broken to pay the price of a house once proud of its name.
Teach the son of his mother's strife now that vengeance sets her aflame.
Bold and bright are the fires that burn as her conquests stretch to the sea.
Fear not son, now the tables turned, let your soul walk free...
Lal ilah eth drowl reeta, lyon nos fo igmih, bifrnorst fo dortemlov!
She remembered.
It was warm, and then it was cold.
The sun was high on that day, and the sky was the bluest she's ever seen. There was even a flock of birds that passed by.
It was ironic.
She felt the warmth enveloped her as she fell… fell… fell…
-and then the biting cold as she drowned… drowned… drowned…
The sheer chill that filled her lungs was numbing. She lost the feel and control over her body in an instant. There was no point in resisting even if she wanted to.
She supposed it was better this way. It was more merciful. She had seen worse after all.
It made her wonder if this was what Harry felt.
In that last moment before darkness took her, she felt comfort knowing that the brother she never had didn't have to suffer.
She remembered, because she can't forget.
She can never forget. She doesn't want to forget.
Both the good and the bad.
Because that's all she ever has left.
Of her world that was no more.
.
Hermione woke up with a sharp gasp as if she had been held underwater for too long and was granted air for the first time. She raised herself from her awkward position on the waxed floor of her flat- her flat…
She was in her flat!
She whipped her head around and saw the polar bear rug by the front door, the full samurai armor in the corner, the painting of a family of tigers, the piano, the humble living room, the two doors for each bedroom, and the empty kitchen.
She made it to the Den. She made it back home.
She was able to escape from him.
The events from before she lost consciousness played back in her head like a film played in fast-forward, and her entire body jolted as if electrified upon remembering the dark wizard she had just desperately tried to run away from as the rush of blind panic and adrenaline overtook her.
Harry had told them about him, of course. They knew his name was Tom Marvolo Riddle before he started calling himself Lord Voldemort. She had seen and even held his diary herself when Harry showed it to her in the Hospital Wing after she had been broken from her petrification.
She knew his story, knew it from Harry, but she's never really seen him until the Battle of Hogwarts in all his monstrous glory. Even when everything went to hell after that; even when she held her dying brother in her arms and he whispered his last words to her ears; even when she went into hiding for years and embraced magic in its true colorless form in the name of survival; even when she, too, fell to her own demise with the warmth of the sun on her face and the cold of the sea swallowing her, she had never seen Voldemort ever again.
Until now.
Only Harry and those who knew him before his resurrection had known what he looked like in his youth. There was a reason why she strode into Borgin and Burkes so confidently in this time period.
They made a bloody deal!
Something churned and ignited at the pit of her stomach. She was no stranger to anger- to fury.
Was she double-crossed?
No… there was no reason to be.
Gifts are freely given but rewards must be earned.
You need to work for your prize.
The fact that her Alduin exists is proof of that part of the deal was kept.
She knew why she was here. She knew it was her turn to fulfill her end of the bargain.
But why is Tom bloody Marvolo fucking Riddle here?!
Not only that but he knows about her. He called her by name. He demanded answers from her. But what answers? What even were the questions? He came at her with accusations she had no idea what about.
But how?
In this time period, no one should know a thing about her. She has no documents- she didn't need them. If she needed anything, she let money do the talking. It was a hard pill to swallow back then but she had to concede that anyone will open their ears if she put down the right amount. She had more than enough to make every vault in Gringotts look like pocket change. The only measly exceptions were those whom she held business with and even then, communication with them had only been brief. If she ever needed anything, illegal or no, she only had to contact someone to get them for her- Postino being one of those handful of people she chose throughout her travels.
No. No matter how she looked at it, Tom Riddle shouldn't know about her. She had done nothing to do with him- she didn't even think he would be here! But now that he does…
Oh… Oh Merlin…
The blazing fire that lit her very heart was suddenly doused with freezing cold waters. Every question, every hypothesis, and every reason that bombarded her came to a screeching halt as the face of her only living family left came to the forefront of her mind.
Alduin.
She needs to find her son.
NOW.
She checked the time and apparated to the fountain, expecting to see her boy watching the magicked water and statues, trying to decipher how they worked on his own, as he waited.
He wasn't there.
She circled the plaza and searched the entirety of Diagon Alley thrice.
He wasn't there.
She waited for him at the fountain.
He never showed.
The ever-freezing clawed hand of fear gripped her heart for the first time in a very long while.
Recklessness was a quality she had always frowned at. Even more so during her time of hiding and surviving long enough to see another morning had been her highest priority. But at that moment, when her only son's smiling face pumped the blood in her veins and washed every other thought in her head, her innermost Gryffindor Lioness reared its head and roared in demand for her precious cub.
Hermione all but tore the sealed cabinet in her room. The very enchanted furniture itself complied to the call of her magic like a humble servant and allowed her free entry. She stepped into a vast room full of shelves and glass casings similar to a museum. Except every item on display, tamed or no, held power that served no one but their own. In a way, it could be said that these limited magical artefacts are sentient.
However, Hermione couldn't care for the lot of them even as their blackened heartbeats pounded against her ears. Like sirens singing to her with the sweetest temptation.
No. She was a woman- a mother- on a mission.
Her vinewood wand- another relic she kept from her past- shot into her hand the second she stopped in front of the familiar seamless box. With graceful arches of her arms like a conductor to an orchestra, the box itself opened and disabled its function for protection as it presented to her its contents like an offering.
She placed her free hand on the shiny dark orb and all at once, a tempestuous whirl of fire and shadow stormed inside. It was wild in the most entrancing kind, that those with weak wills would've found themselves raptured at the very sight of dancing flames and darkness alone.
Ask me… ask me… ask me…
The Allsehend's sibilant whispers rang in her head. It reminded her of Voldemort's own cruel whispers that time he practically demanded for Harry to march to his own death in the Forbidden Forest.
I will tell the past… I will show the present… I will whisper the future… all you have to do is ask… ask… ask… and you will be All-Seeing-
"Shut up," Hermione spat as if it was an annoying, talkative person. There was no past of hers it can tell, nor did she want to hear anything about the future. She only needed to see one thing in the present. "Where is he? Where is Alduin? WHERE IS MY SON?!"
And because she asked, even if she outright demanded, the Allsehend could do nothing but comply.
The spinning fire and shadow pushed to the sides of its glass prison and the image of her son's frowning face appeared.
Why was he frowning?
When the image pulled back, her breath caught in her throat. Alduin was at a dinner table frowning at Tom Riddle.
When the image pulled back again, she could almost hear her teeth grinding as her face twisted into a snarl.
Her son was sitting at a dining table, with Tom Marvolo Riddle, at Malfoy Manor.
She could never forget the cursed place where that mad witch Bellatrix scarred her arm in.
Her necklace suddenly burned hot.
.
Tunnel vision was a deadly thing to have on the verge of battle. It's proof that emotions have overtaken and therefore renders the mind and eyes blind to the world around them; and an unfocused, defenseless mind is easiest to defeat.
Constant Vigilance! -Alastor Moody used to say. She has no doubt he would be furious with her if he saw her now.
If he saw her apparate to Malfoy Manor with her magic roiling and toiling with absolute anger (and fear) in her urgent bid to bring back her son.
Hermione stopped at a distance from where she could sense the wards of Malfoy Manor. Wards that were no doubt ancient and powerful that befit an old family like the Malfoys.
Wards that are about to be destroyed.
With one hand holding her wand firmly, the other held a single black and red arrow tipped with white feathers. However, instead of a sharp, pointed, metal end, a blunt golden knob was at its opposite end. Strips of parchment made of ashwinder skin painted with runes of the most exotic malevolent kind were tied together by the feathered end with two golden bells.
She waved her wand at the arrow and it floated up. She then moved her own position standing side face with her arms straight as if she were holding an invisible bow. The hand that held her wand was the one beside her head and she used it as a guide to lock the blunt end of the arrow to point straight at the wrought iron gates where locks were supposed to be
The Japanese are truly creative people- both the muggle and wizard-kind. But once the language barrier had been brought down, they opened her eyes to methods and possibilities unheard of in Europe. One of those, she learned, were their love of use in talismans of various forms and functions. It was their unique version of warding. The most common of which were those meant for protection- whether it was for their homes, individual people, or even their own pets.
This one, however, she would have to apologize for creating this abomination to their craft.
For instead of protecting a home, she twisted it in order to invade.
She flicked her wrist and the arrow cut through the air with a whistle until it hit the gates.
The entire property shook as her lone arrow fought through the wards with a ferocity of an enraged dragon. The point where the arrow touched the invisible shield created by centuries-old wards sizzled and sparked to the point visible bolts of electricity manifested. As if to show the intensity between the warring magicks. It rippled and electrified the air around her, cracked the invisible dome of the property like precious glass, and shook the very earth beneath her feet.
She had no doubt those within the manor felt it too.
As much as her old grudge demanded vindication for what she had gone through in that house, she knew that this lone arrow of hers wouldn't be enough to completely destroy it. If she wanted to, she should've brought more. But time was against her for every second her son was in the presence of that man.
She would ask her questions later. For nothing is more important than getting her son back and making sure he's safe.
A resounding boom! Signaled the end of the conflict between her arrow and the wards. For the briefest moment, the invisible shield dome flickered in appearance but it was more than enough for her to see the gaping hole in front of the gates.
Hermione blasted the iron gates open and strode down the gravel path with purpose.
.
Figures were appearing all around her.
Most likely, Voldemort's followers. But whoever they were, she didn't stop to even wonder. Not even for a second.
At first there was only one, then two, and then three, until she lost count upon the flurry of spells firing her way like fireworks.
She had no time to waste on this lot.
If there's one more thing war taught her- it's that anything goes, and even the safest spells could turn into the most lethal ones.
The Bubble-Head Charm, for example, a spell with the primary purpose of giving the caster a continuous supply of oxygen to breathe underwater, could be reengineered to do the opposite instead. And fire eats oxygen to keep it burning. It's only a matter of casting them around mouths like a mask, and because these were magical fire, they couldn't easily be taken out nor touched.
A human brain can only last less than a minute before losing consciousness due to oxygen deprivation. She's merciful enough to lift the spell before it could hit the sixty-second mark, because despite her unbridled anger, she did not come here to kill.
There was only one man whom she will not hesitate to unleash the product of years of war and paranoia.
Dark Lord or no, if she finds even a single scratch on her son…
.
With the burn of the necklace on her chest, Hermione let it guide her to her son's whereabouts until she stood once more in that vast drawing room.
Like another sick cliché.
"Mother!"
Her burning hickory eyes snapped immediately towards her son before she even heard him call for her.
"Al…" she breathed before her eyes fixed on the man she had fought in Knockturn not so long ago. All traces of panic and fear were replaced with the scorching heat of anger as she watched her son being held hostage with a bone-white yew wand pressed at his temple.
She enunciated, "Let. Him. Go. Riddle."
"I don't think you're in any position to make demands," came his deep, smooth, dangerous tone. One that belied his own anger, "You are the one who owes me explanations, after all."
"I owe you nothing," she hissed as her hand shook with how hard she gripped her wand.
He ignored her, "To be fair, this wasn't exactly the family reunion I had envisioned, but I do believe that fire should be fought with fire. An eye for an eye, per se."
She ignored him too, "Al, don't be afraid. I'm here now."
She couldn't care less what the bloody hell he was talking about.
She just wanted her son back.
Alduin didn't answer as he held onto the arm that grasped him across the shoulders, locking him in place. His face still had a deep frown as he kept trying to look at his side where the wand was pressed on his head.
"You're a very curious one, aren't you, Alduin?" Tom looked down at him who now had his eyes shut close so tightly his brows scrunched together deeply, "That's why you came here to me, didn't you? Don't you think mommy has a lot of explaining to do? I wanted to settle this quietly but she came in here with wands blazing. It's only fair if I return the sentiment. Don't you think so, son?"
Hermione blinked.
Son? Why would he…
Her bunched up brows began to lift as realization finally dawned on her.
The same raven locks.
The shape of their faces.
The bottomless, hypnotic, dark color of their eyes.
Oh.
Oh no…
"You sick snake!" Hermione roared with all her might.
Four things happened in that next couple of seconds—
One, smoke filtered between Alduin's fingers from where he held onto Tom's arm that caused the latter to let go in shock as intense heat ate through his sleeves and reddened his skin.
Two, Alduin had only covered a few feet in his sprint towards her when Tom recovered. Seeing this, Hermione slashed her free hand at her son's direction and he was pushed back to the side and away from the battlefield.
Three, Tom and Hermione made a circling motion above their heads in sync.
Four, their magic- called forth from its rawest, most primal form, took shape and collided.
Tom's magic was an acrid green while Hermione's was a shimmering gold. Manifested like bolts of lightning, their magic clashed together in a spine-tingling, breathtaking deadlock. Neither of which had any intention of giving the smallest fraction of a window as both held their grounds with only their raw power and emotions fueling them.
While the former was full of rage at the audacity, insolence, and confusion, the latter only had the desire to protect her precious person against the evil she knew that stood before them.
It was beautiful, blinding, suffocating.
The point of collision was a burst of light that sparked off a display of fireworks. Fireworks that blasted everything away from their path, tore wholes and splintered wood, stone, and furniture, billowed their clothes with the wind brought by the force alone, and electrified the very air that would've made any living creature flee on sight.
This collision of magic was a proof of their power.
That they were at least evenly matched.
Both had the desire to win.
Neither wanted to admit defeat.
So what happens when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force?
It explodes…
Unless something intervenes.
"Stop it! Both of you! It doesn't sound right anymore! STOP IT!"
In the midst of the chaos brought by their magic, Tom and Hermione heard Alduin's desperate plea. It startled them out of their deadlock stupor and fizzled out the magic between them.
However, neither had the chance to see as Alduin threw the Instant Darkness Powder and Sote at the ground and in that darkness, he pulled his mother with a strength permitted by adrenaline and desperation and they both disappeared once more through the portal to their Den.
"Al?" Hermione approached her son carefully as he backed himself away to the nearest corner. His hands held the sides of his head where his ears were as if he was desperately blocking out a very loud noise.
"Stop it… It doesn't sound right at all… mother's magic doesn't sound nice anymore… I don't like it… I don't like it at all…"
Alduin muttered between hiccups as fat tears poured down his closed eyes.
Couldn't bring back the world I lost.
Could I walk a better path?
Give my soul a second chance.
Well, that escalated quickly… and I just realized I just made this story harder for myself haha… I hope no one was surprised that Tom and Hermione's first few encounters had been ugly. They're not in Hogwarts where they have to play nice and Hermione's so done after what she's been through.
Did I mention this is a BAMF Hermione fic? Because yeah, this is the kind of Hermione who won't be taking any of Tom's shit. ESPECIALLY when it comes to her son.
And did anybody else saw what I did there? Voldemort was defeated by a mother's love and NOW he was thwarted by a mother and son's special bond AGAIN.
Thank you all for reading this far into the story. I hope this chapter revealed, confirmed, and questioned your theories so far.
There's a reason I made Alduin fond of music after all.
You are all very beautiful readers! Thank you for joining the ride!
Stay awesome!
Ciao~!