How far would you go for the people you love?
"Please, please, pleaseee mother!"
Keeping the firm line of her lips was a losing battle the more she stared at her son's pleading face. His cheeks puffed with an adorable dust of pink, while his dark eyes reflected the night sky.
"Oh, can those eyes get any bigger?" she raised her hands up in surrender before standing up from where she sat on a blanket laden with empty plates and baskets. One would say it unconventional to have a picnic at night, especially in a place as remote as the edge of a forest by a cliff with the sea just beside it. But it had been a tradition for both mother and son. Every year, on his birthday, they would find a place where there would be nary a cloud in the sky to eat and bask under the moon and stars without fail.
Letting out a cheer, Alduin stood fully facing his mother, not wanting to miss a single moment. His tiny hands clutched in fists from excitement of the spectacle he never grew tired of.
Hermione didn't do this often, likely because she found no practical use for it, and it tired her more than any other spell she ever casted. Nevertheless, for once a year, for her beloved son, she'll happily do it as much as he pleased.
Drawn from magic's purest form, she conjured first- one of her bluebell flames in one hand. Then with the other, she hovered above it without touching. By her will and control, the blue flame squirmed and flapped as if surrounded by wind until it compressed into a tiny ball of pure white light.
She lifted her hand, and the dot of light floated up two more heads above them. Then she snapped her finger.
The tiny ball of light burst forth in a blinding shock that could've been seen from miles away. Yet her and her son's eyes were protected from it. So they freely watched in marvel as the light dispersed as quickly as it came, into small sparkles of twinkling stars hovering around them like a blanket.
Alduin laughed and chased after a comet that whizzed by under his nose, making his mother's heart swell as plucked specks of light and formed them into familiar shapes like a skilled artist. Draco, Aries, Cygnus, Leo, Ursa, and more; given solid form by the powerful witch, jumped and ran and galloped and glided around the black-haired boy. Doing tricks for his enjoyment alone.
Later, Alduin would pull on his mother's hand and they would dance and laugh without a care for the world within their illusion of a sea of stars, while the full moon hung big and bright above them along with the real stars of the cloudless night sky.
The radio Hermione brought aptly played Frank Sinatra's Fly Me to the Moon.
Fill my heart with song, and let me sing forever more.
You are all I long for, all I worship and adore.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, the light scratching of his quill onto paper halted finally. Signing off his latest entry with the current date: 8th of March, 1957.
Tom's gaze looked out to the window of his personal home. A single house stood on an island he declared as his own. An isle unknown to anyone in the European continent, protected and warded from both muggles and magical folk alike, where he could freely do as he wished.
He stood from his chair and walked out to the balcony of his modest two-story house. He briefly thought that if he still went with his original plans after finding Ravenclaw's Diadem, he wouldn't have been able to grant himself this luxury. Living by lonesome on an island that rivaled Elliðaey, he couldn't have had it any other way.
Looking up, Tom stared back at the full moon. It seemed larger and brighter tonight with not a single cloud in the sky. Even the sea was at peace with its gentle waves crashing against the island's cliffsides.
There was something… different tonight. An unknown that would've irked him but instead found himself feeling rather calm, subdued even. Not only this night but the previous nights before. As he had noticed, on the night of March 8th for the last four years.
Without fail, he would find himself staring at the moon and stars until that compulsion left him as soon as it came.
Tonight, as he quietly watched the sky for the fourth year in a row, the wireless he had set up in his home office let out a scratchy static sound. The wizarding version of a muggle radio wasn't perfect. Sometimes, it would pick up the frequencies of other channels including muggle ones. For a moment, he had half a mind to turn it off, but changed his mind and decided to pay it no heed as he returned to just watching the moon and stars.
A jazzy song echoed throughout his home.
Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars.
Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars.
Tom could only be described, in the most blatant way, as extremely pleased.
That image of his son replayed again and again like a looping picture in his mind. It made the muscles of his cheeks ache at how much it made him smile- though grin would be a more apt word to use. He was so pleased he had to hide it behind his hand or turn his back. It's a moment he willingly let his perfect mask slip but not so that he would let other people see it. The last time he had been very pleased was when he successfully gathered all of the giants under one banner- under the name of Lord Voldemort- and secured their unwavering loyalty. Even so, that didn't hold a candle to what happened during Alduin's playdate.
Though his subordinates' children hardly had any use for him in the years prior, he was not completely dismissive of them nor their characters. They are his future soldiers, after all. In any kind of group, one cannot simply just waltz in and claim a position in an already-established community. Though he doubted Alduin would go out of his way to integrate himself, judging from his lack of interest despite establishing a friendship with Lucius. He only needed Alduin to be acknowledged by the other children, because no matter the layers, his son still, in a less roundabout way, had popped out of nowhere. Of course, Tom could've easily just ordered their servility, but there's a proper time when to use force.
What happened at the garden, however, was beyond his expectations.
Of course, he wouldn't allow his son to be at the same level as the other heirs. He could've implanted that thought once the boy attends Hogwarts, but no.
His son went ahead and did it.
With his back straight, shoulders squared with confidence and power, and a gaze that foretold unspoken promises of pain to the one who offended him; for the briefest moment, he saw instead an abandoned classroom, with boys at the same age wearing robes of black, green, and silver, with the Slytherin emblem on their chest, and a lone, dark-haired boy with eyes as black as the void looming over frightened faces and bowing heads.
Now no one would question the boy's power and, Alduin had just secured his position in his own circle.
It had completely ebbed his annoyance with the boy's mother and Nagini.
Now wasn't that curious?
Twice his familiar had spoken out of turn in defense of another person. Specifically, Alduin and Granger. It was something completely out of character for her. For she usually did not care about others and even reveled at how others would look at her in fear from her size alone. With Alduin, he understood. The boy was his son and even an animal would be able to connect their relation, let alone a magical one. But Granger?
"It will be unbecoming of me to not show my deference. This woman deserves the greatest of respects apart from my master. For she is the Honorable Mother."
What could've earned the witch such a title? To have his merciless serpent reciting it like a prayer. Was it just because she gave birth to his son? Did snakes value parentage that much? Or was it just the magical variety? In the wild, only a handful of snake species would stay by the nest long after the eggs have already hatched. And the magical serpents Tom had met in his travels were mostly solitary. Or does this only apply to his case? Since he's a descendant of Slytherin, he had inherent prestige among the Serpentes. His son was no question, but did that extend to the boy's mother as well?
Still, Honorable Mother, was too specific of a title.
He'll have to ponder that for later though.
His musings halted when he caught sight of the fountain, specifically on the little boy sitting at the edge.
Alduin seemed to have sensed his gaze and locked eyes with him even from afar. As usual, it was like looking at himself in the mirror when he himself was ten.
Except he didn't own a scarf or coat or gloves to protect him from the Autumn chill. He didn't own anything that was explicably his at that age.
"Good morning, Alduin," Tom greeted with a cordial smile that had a tinge of truth. That pleasant sensation of a job well done had returned upon seeing his son.
However, something didn't seem quite right. For one, it was usually Tom who waited on his son at the fountain.
"Hm? Is something the matter?" he inquired. Was he in one of his moods?
The boy should've returned his greeting by now. With a polite smile that was just a touch brighter than his own. Instead, he had only stood when Tom stopped just a few feet away from him. His gloved hands stuck in his pockets as he gazed up at him.
For a while, neither ravenheads said anything. Tom still had a polite inquiring look as he tried to decipher what the boy could be thinking, while Alduin just looked at him with an odd expression.
His lips were pressed tightly together, with the lower lips jutting slightly outwards reminiscent of a pout. A wrinkle between his brow would also appear every other second as if he had thought of something unpleasant and hurriedly composed himself.
Tom believed he had never made such a face, even in childhood.
"Have you eaten yet, Alduin?" Tom asked, knowing by now that any mention of food would garner him a reaction. He was only secretly thankful for whatever metabolism the boy had, or physical activity he does, that kept his son's lean physique.
As expected, Alduin reacted. His eyes widened before tucking his chin under his scarf in an almost bashful way, only to… suddenly glare up at him like he had said something offensive instead… Tom's perplexity of the boy's behavior overrode his need to ask him what was wrong. So instead, he let the boy go through whatever ruminations he's having as Alduin looked skittishly from side to side and swinging his fist at his side, occasionally hitting it on his thigh.
Eventually, the boy finally sighed and looked him in the eye again. His expression this time was like he had just been arguing with an annoying person and relented only to shut them up.
"None of that today, sir. My mother… she said she wants to talk to you."
"Oh?" Tom's brows rose minutely in interest. Though the day ended in his favor, his last conversation with the witch left him vexed if not curious, suspicious, and intrigued. He didn't need to either deny nor outright affirm her deductions of his actions. She proved to be sharp enough, but that did not mean it annoyed him any less.
Still, this would mark the first time the witch came to speak to him of her own volition, albeit using Alduin as an invitation.
"Would you please follow me, sir? She's… she's waiting at the Den," Alduin continued, reluctantly.
'Den?' Tom raised a brow at the odd term, as he looked down at his son's conflicted expression.
"I'd be delighted to."
His answer only made his son's face scrunch up more but the boy gestured and began leading the way to their flat building.
Like with most buildings in the wizarding world, the interior was much larger than what it seemed on the outside. While others kept the trend of a medieval-esque architecture to distinguish themselves from muggles, the owner of this building was one of the rare handful who dared to integrate modernism in their design. Instead of wood slats and beams, the floor was polished tiles and the columns were made of marble, and overhead, the ceiling had a chandelier with luminescent stones instead of candles.
A far cry from the dark building he had rented a flat in Knockturn Alley years ago.
He expected no less from the more expensive street in Wizarding London. The magic folk who decided to stay in one of these rooms were those who either found the modernism actually appealing, or simply had the money for it.
Tom followed Alduin silently. The boy not once looked back at him. Either he was confident or simply didn't care whether he was following or not.
Up the stairs, on the third floor. Turn right and count the numbers stuck on the doors up to 310.
Yes. He knew where they lived.
Tom had come here before. The day after he learned where they lived.
The first time he tried to force his way in, intending to catch them by surprise when they returned.
He failed.
The irksome witch enchanted her own door. A complicated, powerful enchantment at that.
He could commend her for doing so. He had done the same. It pays to be extra cautious.
What irked him was his failure to crack it. When a simple unlocking spell had worked, he was only met with a silent room gathering dust, and nary a sign of any living being living inside. Even when he tried to crack it and countered with his own set of spells, the door did not relent and opened yet again to an empty room.
He could've waited, could've caught the mother and son by surprise at the lobby or in front of the building, but he had yet to make contact with any of them then and his intrigue of the witch's spellwork overrode the ire over his unsuccessful attempts.
Still, he had theories.
Plus, it would not do to suddenly appear and scare them off. It was pointless for a predator to roar before sinking their claws into their prey.
Nevertheless, he was here once again, and Tom clenched his fists in anticipation on finally passing through the door that denied his entries.
"Mr. Riddle," Alduin looked up at him over his shoulder. His face was one of seriousness and resignation, "Please behave yourself."
An elegant brow rose at his audacity but the boy didn't wait for his response as he turned his head back and placed his hand over the door.
There was no grand ceremony, nor any fireworks show. His son simply opened the door without a key and entered inside.
He held it open wide for him to enter.
Tom immediately knew it was not the same room he had entered before.
.
Hermione rubbed her temples as she took in a deep breath. She woke up with a headache but thought it didn't hurt that much to drink a potion for.
'I might've overdone it a bit,' she lamented. She had only intended to return to the Tree to reinforce the door, what she didn't expect was to have to do a repair job because some bloke had apparently tried to break through the Den.
And almost succeeded.
Damn Riddle.
She was wholly confident it was him. Loathe she was to admit it, she has yet to meet another witch or wizard that stood a chance of even scratching the work she had done besides that man.
Shoulders rolled back, Hermione opened her eyes and saw herself in her vanity mirror. Her fingertips brushed across her smooth cheeks, under her eye, then across the subtle line of her jaw, to the middle of her lips, careful to not smudge the bit of rouge there.
Mrs. Reicher taught her dignity and restored her grace; enemy or not, she refused to appear any less.
She heard the soft tinkle of windchimes and knew it was her son with that man in tow.
After giving herself one last once-over, she opened the door of her room only to see her son with an odd look on his face and Riddle… just staring at her door.
With his profile just slightly turned from her, knowing better than to completely turn one's back in an unfamiliar environment, she could see his dark eyes roving over every inch like a keen scientist observing a specimen through a microscope.
She cleared her throat but he still didn't turn towards her.
"You applied Lowh's law of Spatial Compression and reinforced it with Grecian runes," he said as casually. Pointing out the facts that did not surprise her since the inscriptions were plainly etch over the doorframe. He then pointed at the symbol for Aether and then to the doorknob before finally turning his head in her direction. "This doorknob, however, looks commissioned but not goblin-made. What is-" he paused as if catching himself and turned a quick glance at Alduin who still had a conflicted expression on his face, "May I ask what was your reference?"
Hermione's eyes narrowed in suspicion, unsure where he was getting at. Reluctantly, she answered, "A traveling suitcase… with an Undetectable Extension Charm."
"Ahh," Riddle hummed, his hand came up to cup his chin in thought as he surveyed the room before looking back at the door again. "But the fact you chose a door tells me you only took the principle of the charm in regards to spatial adjustments. Since the charm only works for objects with a three-dimensional exterior, and to use these specific set of runes- ohhh I get it now."
He fully turned towards her this time; the corners of his lips stretched into a pleased, smug smile that was more chilling than it should.
"We're not in London anymore, are we?"
A chill went up her spine.
How did he do that? She knew he was brilliant, but to dissect and rebuild one of her proudest works in no more than a few minutes?
It should be illegal to be that smart.
"W-What gave it away?" she mentally cringed at her stutter, but she had to ask. Not even Hector was able to get it on the first go, and he was one of the brilliant minds she came across since she came back.
"Just the door, actually. If your only intent was to expand the interior of this room, there wouldn't be a need to use those set of runes. Then to use a door meant coming and going from one place to another. Not to mention this room has a completely different interior than the other rooms in this building," he paused, "Though I must admit I didn't expect you to use blood magic for your wards. Rom Arcanum, right?"
He asked but it sounded more rhetoric with the confidence in his tone. Still, it made Hermione flush for some reason. There are simpler spells and rituals in establishing wards, even those tied specifically to members of a family, that did not need the use of blood. Since blood magic has its own complexities that could produce more troublesome results when not handled perfectly, it's considered riskier, more dangerous, and even archaic than some practices of dark magic.
However, if handled properly…
"Yes, with a little variety," she confirmed, "Instead of going through the third step, I switched it with my own formula for magical transformation and fixation via multi-layered interference."
Arcana are a set of instructions created in order to make a magical artefact. Unlike items spelled with charms or curses, the use of arcana is more permanent and gives the person freedom to design the artefact however they wished with its versatility. It combines the uses of runology, advanced arithmancy, and even astronomy. In a way, it is the magical equivalent to computer programming. Each arcanum have their own language or set of rules like syntaxes. It is a primary requirement to have great patience and a deep sense of logic in order to create one from scratch. For no two kinds of arcanum are the same and it involved a lot of trial and error in order to succeed. The only issue with using them by companies making magic tools, or shops similar to the Weasley Wizard Wheezes, was because it takes too much time to create just one item and requires specific materials for the arcana to work. It simply wasn't a method for mass production.
The Rom Arcanum is one such language which gives the primary function of concealing. Her use of blood magic was only to reinforce the condition that only those of her blood are allowed to enter, as well as those who were given permission.
"Did you not consider the Arcanum of Logarius? Or Micolash?" Riddle asked, head cocked as he anticipated her answer.
Hermione let out an unlady-like snort, "Please, Riddle. Logarius does not allow the use of Grecian runes, and I'd rather save myself the headache of using Micolash, would you?
"Ahh I suppose it wouldn't do to hurt Micolash's… sensibilities."
At this, she couldn't help let out a bit of laughter, "Yes, I wouldn't want to handle with that tantrum."
The Micolash Arcanum, apart from concealment, included entrapment in the form of a misty maze. The issue was it does not allow any alteration whatsoever of its preset rules. If any attempts were made, the arcanum would retaliate and would instead show the solution to its supposed victim itself. Those familiar would akin it to a spoiled child used to having things done their way.
At that thought, Hermione and Riddle shared a laugh despite themselves. The whole notion just too ridiculous to not find it humorous. Only for the sound of a throat clearing popped that bubble.
They both turned to Alduin who looked unimpressed if not for the light that sparkled in his eye.
Still, that effectively snapped Hermione back to reality as she squared back her shoulders. She gestured but avoided eye contact. Feeling a bit embarrassed, "I- err… I've prepared tea and biscuits."
"Well now I certainly can't say no to that, can I?" he answered. She shot him a quick glare when she detected that hint of sarcasm behind his politeness.
It was just a quick trek past the foyer. The small table and said tea and biscuits were already set up and kept warm via magic.
There were only two seats.
Hermione turned to the younger ravenhead just as Riddle went ahead and sat himself on one of the chairs. His dark eyes rapidly flit across his surroundings, going from one item to the next as he knew for sure were more magical than at first glance, "Alduin, I'll need you to go into your room now."
Alduin abruptly froze as if he was hit by a spell. His eyes raised at her almost as if in alarm before that odd look showed in his face again. She wasn't sure at first, but as she looked at it closer, she recognized it and almost couldn't believe it.
Her son… was sulking.
"Al," she said carefully with a little firmness, "we talked about this."
His lower lip seemed to jut out even more, "But aren't I also involved with this?"
Hermione sighed patiently. For a brief moment, she saw her younger-self pouting up at her parents when they would talk about adult things and wouldn't indulge her curiosity.
"Yes, but there's also some things Riddle and I have to talk about that don't involve you," she bent down a bit to encourage him to look into her eyes, "So be a good boy and stay in your room until we're done, alright? Besides, didn't you say you were still sleepy earlier?"
"Not sleepy anymore," Alduin mumbled.
"Well if you want, you could always go to Diago-"
"I'll be in my room," he interrupted and headed straight for the door to his room. Taking one last glance at her and Riddle before opening and closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Hermione sighed in relief and when she looked back, she was met with Riddle's incredibly amused expression. With his long legs crossed and cheek propped up by his fist, and elbows resting on the arm rests of his chair; looking so comfortable as if he owned the place. She had a feeling this is the sort of demeanor he would show when he's in the house of his minions.
"Did you let him stay up all night?" he asked as she sat on the chair opposite him.
"No," she shrugged, "He just likes to sleep in when the weather's cold."
He made a hum of acknowledgment but otherwise said nothing more. Probably chalking it as a quirk of Alduin's.
Their tea was served with a lazy-looking wave of her hand. The teapot floated and poured their cups with steaming liquid of red gradient. Riddle had a look of uninterest on his face yet watched her perfect wandless, silent magic keenly nonetheless.
"It's assam tea," she explained by reflex when he picked up his cup and brought it close to his nose, "It's a bit strong but its perfect for breakfast. I'm assuming you haven't eaten yet?"
She gestured towards the small basket full of breakfast biscuits. His gaze fell on it for a second before adding a cube of sugar and taking a sip.
"Well don't mind if I do," he said in satisfaction, accepting the food prepared for him without hesitation. She would've found it odd if she didn't know already that poisons wouldn't have any effect on him. Because of his horcrux, so long as his body didn't receive any irreparable damage like getting a limb or finger cut off, he will be fine and even heal quickly. Not that the thought didn't cross her mind. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure, if she did manage to hurt or kill him, how it would affect his ring and therefore her son's craving. She still wasn't sure if the reason was because it was a horcrux or it was one of the Hallows. Furthermore, she needed to be in the most favorable position in dealing with Riddle right now and poisoning him just isn't the way to do it.
"Good?" she couldn't help ask, leaning forward after he took a second bite. His other hand hovered under to catch any bits that flaked off.
Riddle lifted his gaze up questioningly at her but otherwise continued eating. Then after a moment, he paused, having caught her implication, "You're saying you made these?"
"Alduin helped," she supplied readily before fondly picking up one with a little uneven shape from the rest.
They had a moment of silence. Hermione, relishing one of her son's creations, while Riddle chewed slowly, almost contemplatively. He thanked her out of polite obligation but didn't grab for another.
He still ate the entire thing.
In her mind, she thought 'so far, so good'.
"Now, shall we begin, Ms. Granger? Or perhaps Hermione would be more appropriate?"
She countered, "Hermione's fine, if I call you Tom."
His mouth twitched down a bit but he relented easier than she thought, "Fair enough."
"May I first ask how you were able to figure out our names?"
"Alduin was polite enough to introduce himself, and the both of you are people of habit. The man behind the reception desk of your flat building was also more than helpful."
She frowned, "You can't just go ahead and ask something like that."
Riddle smirked, "Oh not to worry, I didn't."
The brunette opened her mouth but her rant fell short when she caught on his meaning. Of course, Riddle wouldn't need to do information gathering himself. His smirk stretched triumphantly at her exasperated groan.
"So you are the one who tried to break into my home," she narrowed her gaze at him.
He shrugged and took a sip of his tea, acting like he had done nothing wrong.
Seeing that he has no intention of explaining himself, Hermione plucked five flowers from the bunch decorating the glass vase on the table and transfigured it back into it's original- five pieces of parchment, and held them out to him. Tom's head tilted at it in regard, he looked back at her in amusement after reading the first few sentences.
"You seriously wrote this in paper?"
This time, the brunette looked back at him oddly, as if he was the strange one, "This is a business negotiation after all."
"Ahh, of course it is," he replied indulgently and accepted them with a lazy hand.
"Listed there are all the terms I want fulfilled in our agreement," Hermione began to explain, but as Tom continued to read, his amused expression turned sour by the second until his eyebrows knitted together in a frown.
He looked back at her with narrowed eyes, "Surely you jest."
She sat straighter in her seat, "I most certainly am not. You wanted us to pose as a real family for the last decade and I want to ensure a safe environment for Alduin and myself. You might as well do your part."
"You also want me to hand over fifty-percent of all my existing assets," he glared, "I understand adding a clause for security but these are just ridiculous. Especially in regards to Alduin- if he doesn't want to do anything, I'm not allowed to force him? Demanding is prohibited? If he wants something, I give it to him?"
"I want you to treat him like a person- like the boy your son really is. No cursing or hitting out of any intent. Don't throw around objects, either, and if you get angry or end up hating him, then simply ignore him- oh! And no shouting at him either. Those terms apply to me as well, of course."
Tom leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, "There's a line between gifting and spoiling, Hermione. Discipline is a part of a child's growth."
"I am against applying any physical harm to be a form of discipline," she pinned him with a hard glare, daring him to refute. She's willing to negotiate with everything else but anything that contests her son's safety is out of the question, "There are other ways to enforce discipline."
"And his claims? His wants? And here I thought you didn't raise him to be a spoiled brat."
"Alduin's a very intelligent boy. He can-"
"Can you honestly believe that? Regardless of his intellectual and emotional maturity, Alduin is still just a little boy and children can go from one whim to another in a heartbeat. Can you assure that he would never ask for something outrageous? What if his action could cause harm onto others, or himself? And the only way to prevent it is simply saying 'no'? Are you willing to risk that?"
Her teeth bit hard on her lower lip. Tom had a point. But isn't it a bigger risk for him to take advantage of this and make Alduin do something dark behind her back?
"I-I'll handle it."
"Do you really believe that? Are you not absent most hours of the day? I'll be establishing myself officially as Alduin's father. It would be strange if I can't secure time alone with my son. Are you saying you would be with us twenty-four seven? Watching our every step and listening to our every word? If so, then it is only fair that I demand the same for me."
It was unusual to hear him talk about fairness, but she highly doubted that was the case given their situation. He was most likely pushing her into a corner so he could strike with his own terms that would yield more results for his own benefit.
Hermione pursed her lips and stared back at him in the eyes, "You're allowed to deny or force him to a degree within reason that would keep him from harm only."
Their stare down lasted for several heartbeats before he nodded, "I accept."
She felt her shoulders relax a bit.
Tom continued, "There's also this."
Her brown eyes fell on the parchment he laid down between them, facing her direction, and followed his tapping finger over another clause of her written terms.
Her expression back at him was similar to disbelief, "What's wrong with requesting that you keep only one mistress? I don't like men who keep many lovers."
There was an odd expression on his face again, almost like a mix between frustration and exasperation. Yet he carried it so well on his handsome face, it would've looked ugly if worn by another.
"Hermione, I don't need any lovers, especially not a mistress."
"Can you be really sure of that? We won't be marrying for love, Tom." she stated factly, and she honestly didn't expect him to.
Romantic love was the furthest from her mind and she's got her hands full to even include something unnecessary. She's fully content of giving all of her heart to her only living family. The same couldn't be said for the man before her. She honestly couldn't care less if he decided to have a lover. Though she couldn't speak for him, she at least knew Voldemort never had any with the lack of a Dark Lady and his apparent self-isolation. What she's asking from Tom was to at least make it discreet. She didn't want her son to get entangled if some woman decided to antagonize him for being his son. If they were really going through all of this for the sake of reputation, then he wouldn't oppose to this, right?
If only she knew that at the same time, Tom was thinking the same. In that he had been busy himself with his projects and research that it basically robbed him of his urges besides the occasional wank unfortunately given to him physiologically in the mornings. Besides, he can't be sure about her need for intimacy as well. And if she so chose to have a lover… it just wouldn't bode well for his plans for her.
"No, we're not," he agreed, "Then you also realize this would have to be applied to you as well?"
"That wouldn't be a problem," she said in confidence, picking up her own tea. "I have no intention of sleeping with any other men."
"On that note, there's a clause that you seemed to have missed," he tapped his finger on the parchment again, "There seems to be no clause about a future child."
Hermione choked. Spittle and tea flew as she coughed hard and loud, she even had to tap her chest. Her throat hurt from trying to force any liquid that fell down the wrong pipe. When her coughing fit subsided, she was surprised to see a hand holding a napkin stretched out to her. She hesitated for a moment before accepting it and mumbling a small 'thank you' between coughs. Heat began to rise on her face as she processed his words again.
"That was a strong reaction."
"Of course i-" she coughed, "it was! Did you not hear yourself? 'Future child'? Are yo- are you even capable?"
She mumbled the last part in a soft whisper but he heard her regardless. His head cocked to the side, "Of course. Do you think babies are brought by a stork? Considering Alduin's existence, I think this proves that I am capable of reproduction."
"That's not what I- Of course I don't- I mean that meant you and I-" she babbled for the first time since the war in her previous life. By now her face was as red as a tomato as she tried to gather her scrambled thoughts. Sure, since wizards and witches have a longer lifespan, their body would enable them to reproduce past the normal age limit for muggles. Still…
How could he suggest that they would ever do that?
Didn't he hate her?
"This is just a precaution, Hermione," he supplied. If her senses were still keen, she would've noticed amusement in his dark eyes and laughter at the corner of his lips, "From what you presented, you prefer to keep this as detailed as possible, yes? Should another child be born between us, I want full rights as with Alduin. On a related note, if you had past dalliances, that's fine with me, but I must warn you- if you become involved with another man after we marry, rest assured that I will do something about it."
It was the most direct threat he ever gave her without their wands out that she couldn't help the shudder run down her spine despite herself.
She swallowed, the heat over her cheeks dissipating a bit no thanks to the open threat, "So it's agreed that neither of us will be taking lovers."
"That seems to be the case."
The rest of their talk went surprisingly smooth after that. Hours passed by without neither of them noticing. Hermione mostly stressed her need for security while Tom kept making counteroffers for every other condition. Numerous times she had to pause and think just to keep herself from saying anything reckless as she deciphered his words. It was different from dealing with her associates and shady businessmen from black markets. Maybe because she knew beforehand that Tom wasn't someone to be taken lightly. A lot is at stake here and contrary with her experience with time and space, she has absolutely no control of it so she had to seize every precaution possible. It certainly been a long time since she had to do this much critical thinking with another intellectual.
It was honestly… refreshing.
Until it wasn't.
"As for residences, I'm afraid you can't stay here," she said. "You know that there's no modifying an arcanum and I have no plans of starting from scratch and gathering all the ingredients needed again in such a short notice. I know people I can contact to find a suitable home. Money won't be an issue either. After all, it would be strange if you keep staying with the Malfoys instead-"
"Wait a moment," Tom raised his hand to stop her mid-sentence and brought it over to his face as he took a deep breath, "Are you insinuating that I've been mooching off of Malfoy? That I'm some… beggar with nothing to his name that just happens to be well-dressed?"
His magic surged like a tidal wave against her skin. It reminded her of the sensation as she was crashed between the wild currents, and she swore her nose even smelled the sea.
Tom Riddle was angry at her.
So deeply offended, his knuckles were bone white over the armrests of his chair in his restraint as a long blade was held across his throat the moment he let out such dangerous magic. The samurai armor kept in one corner of the room came to life with blue fire behind the darkness of its helmet. Made to protect its masters against any threat, it withdrew its sword that can cut through iron and poised over Tom's throat just a hair's breath away. Its armor was made to be immune to as much spells as possible. The same goes to the other magical artefacts displaying the Den. The tigers leapt off their paintings and circled around his chair. The polar bear rug filled like an inflated balloon as it positioned itself behind him with steel-like claws and teeth out.
Yet, despite the existing danger literally surrounding him, Tom's hardened glare hiding the very void never once left hers.
And for the first time, at the face of his magic, she couldn't find it in herself to retaliate. Instead, heat welled up in her cheeks once more as embarrassment filled her this time.
"I- Well, you never mentioned where you lived," she tried to reason, "And Serafina mentioned you've stayed with them for days on end…"
"You never asked," he bit out. The ironclad control he had over his magic as he still had to consider the literal sword on his throat was amazing, "The suite I have at Malfoy Manor was a gift from Abraxas. I only stay there if I have businesses that require me to attend to for days since I'm out of the country."
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean- I didn't mean to offend you," her gaze dropped to her lap, feeling pathetic. There was just something different in his expression. It was the most genuine she's ever seen of him that clearly showed his true feelings.
She already knew how to deal with his anger, his ire, and his frustration. But this…
He's hurt.
Of all the things this world could throw at her after her death, this wasn't one of them and she didn't know what to do.
"Well consider me offended," he hissed, voice straining against his own self-control.
Hermione supposed she could admit it was her fault. She wasn't informed about this side of Voldemort and during his reign of terror, people feared him so much they just gave him anything he wanted without question just to spare their lives. Even before he created his new body, he sequestered between the Riddle manor and the homes of his followers who were more than happy to shelter him until he could rise again.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, Hermione raised her hand and motioned to the magical artefacts. She said 'stop' in Albanian, "Ndalo."
The artefacts obeyed her in a heartbeat and returned to their motionless positions at their respective places. When she peeked back at Tom, his hand was inspecting his throat for any droplet of blood in case the sharp blade nicked his skin.
"That was insulting," he stated, glaring at her.
"I said I was sorry," she apologized truthfully.
"Congratulations, Ms. Granger, you have successfully offended me," he added, "and for your information, I do have my own house and source of income."
She bit back her reflexive question to ask. She should've known when he didn't bat about sharing half of his assets the first time they started this negotiation.
It was a miracle he didn't lunge at her the second she called off her artefacts.
Instead, she asked, "Still, about our place of resi-"
"I'll take care of it."
There was a finality in his tone that gave no room for argument. Hermione may be proud but she knew when to admit when she was wrong and decided to let him have this. In retrospect, reminding him of his poverty-stricken life and implying he still lived in such conditions was in very poor taste. Hermione grew up in comfort and even when she experienced hunger and went through days without a roof over her head, she still had magic and her travels allowed her to meet new people who helped her.
But little Tom Marvolo Riddle, orphan boy, who did not fully understand his gift, for the first twelve years of his life, had nothing.
Silence passed over them with some awkwardness. Hermione, stewing in her embarrassment as she mentally scolded herself that distinctly reminded her of Mrs. Reicher, and Tom, simmering down from his anger.
When enough time had passed, Hermione cleared her throat, "We still haven't decided how to carry this, yet. Supposed an Unbreakable Vow would be agreeable for the both of us but…"
Tom huffed, "But it wouldn't be enough to satisfy all of these conditions in one sitting, and we can't afford someone else to do the binding for us."
Yes, apparently, he had already made up a story that would be a perfect cover for their fake family. She couldn't say she was a fan of it but it worked so well for the timeline of events no one would even think of questioning its validity. Especially if he had his Knights to testify for them. It also wouldn't interrupt with her and her associates. Although she would need to personally inform some of them about it as soon as possible.
"So what do you suggest?"
From the inside pocket of his blazer, he took out a small dirk with a silver handle inlaid with green stones. Hermione's eyes widened when Tom turned the blade and sliced a small wound on his thumb just enough for blood to flow out freely for a short time.
Without even asking for her consent, he began drawing on the polished oak of her table. It looked like an intricate looking 'S' almost as if done with a calligraphy pen with how fine the strokes were. Which was honestly amazing on itself since he was only using his thumb.
Once he was done, Tom held up his thumb over the small symbol as big as a coaster and let a single drop of blood fall on top of it. However, instead of splashing over the letter, it disappeared just before it hit and if she had blinked, she would've missed how the letter rippled.
A small 'pop' came from beside their table and before them stood a creature that closely resembled a goblin with its pointy ears, sharp teeth, and sharp nails. It was plump despite its small height and wore a simple-looking tunic if it weren't for the fact it was made from metal thread and its leather belt was imprinted with complex designs and the buckle was made from adamantine. A small bag and alcohol flask hung on each side of its waist. But its most distinguishing feature was its elongated skull that tapered at the end colored a bright, bloody red that contrasted heavily against its green-tinged skin.
"My liege!" the creature exclaimed the second it spotted Tom. Its bearded face, braided in intricate styles, stretched into a wide genuine smile showing its sharp teeth, "I am always honored to receive your summons. How can this humble servant be of any service?"
Tom acknowledged, pleased at how the creature bowed before him so lowly at his feet. He then turned to her, "Hermione, this is Zanrasa, he is a-"
"Red Cap," the brunette breathed, closing her mouth, unaware it had opened from her shock. She shot him a look that could only be disbelief, "You have a pact with a Red Cap too?"
"Too?" Tom frowned.
Hermione summoned her own dirk and performed the same ritual as Tom. But instead of a letter 'S', she drew a single circle with a star on top of the ring. When she fed it her own drop of blood, another Red Cap appeared with a pop much closer to her side.
"My liege!" her Red Cap cried out with the same exuberance as Tom's upon seeing his master, "No words can describe the joy I feel whenever you call upon me. Ask me, my dear lady, and I promise you shall receive."
"Ziryushu," she nodded.
Red Caps are a species of magical creature that closely resembled goblins in appearances but that was the extent of their similarities. In fact, goblins absolutely despise Red Caps. As younglings, they were born with their conical heads a pale white, which would change into varying shades of red as they grew from feasting on the blood of other creatures. But unlike vampires or other blood-sucking creatures, they didn't need to physically harm their prey and just needed to be near to siphon them of their blood. They do not hunt to kill and they are as elusive as sprites so they were never categorized as creatures to be wary of by any magical ministry. Additionally, they stay away from any human settlement and lived in unoccupied ancient ruins. In truth, Red Caps are considered weak creatures. Their magical capabilities only allowed them to hunt for their survival, but there is one thing that makes them stand out from any magical creature.
Red Caps make the best oath keepers. If a successful pact was made, they would ensure any sort of transaction between their master and another would be followed to the letter. They would also ensure their master would reap the most benefits out of any deal or promise, whether it be business or personal. Their magic allowed them to bypass and override any existing vows prior, no matter if it was an Unbreakable Vow or blood magic. Which was why goblins abhorred them, because they could not go against a Red Cap's magic, they felt cheated and robbed of the gold rightfully owed to them by a witch or wizard.
The only reason every other household did not have one, is because, like giants, Red Caps are creatures that recognize only the strong and powerful, magically. In their eyes, they would not be able to see any difference between other species. Dogs are all dogs, hippogriffs are all hippogriffs, humans are all humans. No matter the gender or distinguishing feature, they would never be able to tell. They only recognize the soul, which defines a living being's might in magic. Which was why they chose to drink blood, because that is the closest physical thing to a soul- to magic.
Their inability to recognize differences also disallowed them from seeking creatures with powerful magic as well. Which was why one must seek them out themselves. Unfortunately, Red Caps are extremely picky. Even if successful contact was made, if they do not deem them as strong, they would just leave, or even siphon out their blood as a snack.
On the chance they did meet a powerful individual, that would be the only time they could recognize differences to ensure they knew their master. Their heads would also color in accordance with their master's power and even adopt their might. In their hierarchy, the more bloody-red their heads were, the more powerful they were.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MAGIC ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"
Eyes wide from the sudden outburst, Hermione stared back at the fat, older Red Cap absolutely shaking from anger from where he stood.
"Why if it isn't old Zanrasa!" Ziryushu exclaimed, disdain behind his toothy grin.
The older Red Cap turned his gaze at Hermione, his beady eyes with no sclera widened before turning back to the former, "She is your liege?"
Ziryushu did the same with Tom, "And I suppose he is yours."
"Ziryushu, how do you know Tom's err- Red Cap?" she couldn't help asking.
Her Red Cap answered, tone and posture returned to utmost respect in the face of his master, "He was my former clan leader, my liege. But after our pact was made and you have blessed me with your magic, I claimed his only daughter as my mate and his hate for me burned as hot as the sun ever since."
"Zanrisa should know better than to accept you, you belligerent ninnyhammer!"
That was only partially true. Ziryushu used to be considered one of the weakest in the clan (clans composed of different unrelated families sharing one homestead). But a year later, he returned with a head as beautiful crimson red as Zanrasa, who was already the clan leader and became one of the most powerful after his pact with his liege.
With the appearance of a new powerhouse, their clan, which was considered one of the largest, was cut in half as some decided to follow Ziryushu, and to add salt to injury, he took his former clan leader's daughter as his own.
However, the real reason the older Red Cap had such disdain over the younger, was because Ziryushu would not reveal who his liege was. Though he was bound and would never betray his own master, as a creature who greatly valued power, Zanrasa was more than eager to meet another powerful individual.
Especially since Ziryushu's liege was just as powerful as Zanrasa's own.
It was an interesting story, Hermione had to admit. Even though she did not appreciate the seemingly convenient coincidence that further tied her with Tom Riddle than she already was.
"Enough!" Tom barked, effectively ceasing the exchange of profanity between the two Red Caps. "I did not summon you here to watch you fight with your in-law, Zanrasa."
The older Red Cap instantly turned and bent on one knee, "My deepest apologies, my liege. Chiefest and greatest of all wizards in the world."
Ziryushu did the same, genuflecting before Hermione's feet, "I regret you had to witness something so unsightly, my liege. Please accept my apology, crowned witch by the stars."
Hermione groaned internally. It was bad enough when the werewolves called her 'Lady'. As appreciative as she was with Ziryushu, the Red Cap's attitude towards her turned a complete 180 after their pact and he hadn't stopped calling her with such titles and praises. Even if it was customary for them to do as such for the masters they recognized as strongest of the strong.
Tom, however, greedily lapped up all the praise though.
"I will be making a contract with this witch here, Zanrasa," Tom explained, gesturing to Hermione, "and I want you to oversee it."
"And since you are here, I would like you to do the same for me, Ziryushu," Hermione added.
The two Red Caps looked at one another. Despite their transgressions, they readily set aside their qualms to fulfill their master's wishes.
"These terms are for business… and marriage…" Ziryushu mumbled as they shared the parchment between them. The younger Red Cap snapped his eyes up between his liege and the wizard before his expression lit up. He clapped his hands together in realization, "Oh of course! As expected of my liege to choose someone as strong to father her child!"
Beside him, Zanrasa's expression also lit up in excitement. Even though he's never met his liege's child, he was also praising Tom for choosing a powerful witch as his mate, and by Ziryushu's reaction, their child must have powerful magic as well.
"I… That's not…" Hermione fidgeted awkwardly. After all, she can't outrightly say she explicitly chose Tom as her son's father. Of all people. She wasn't even aware her son had a father prior to meeting him.
All this time, she thought Alduin's existence was the same as her's.
She threw a look over the ravenhead but Tom looked absolutely nonplussed as he poured and drank more of his tea. Content to just watching the show.
Another set of hours passed as they let the Red Caps read their contract. It was almost fun watching the two debate, edit, and make counteroffers for the benefit of their masters. Hermione and Tom mostly remained silent and only interjected when needed, adding another condition if they thought of any.
She never noticed his stares as she lost herself to her thoughts.
"All of the conditions have been accounted for and the details are ironed out," Ziryushu announced as he sent Hermione a silent, apologetic look. Zanrasa and Tom were relentless but at least he was successful in establishing her wish to prioritize their security.
"However, we have agreed that it would be best for you two to marry first before we do our parts. Depending on the rite you chose, some of these conditions will be fulfilled and our magic would only reinforce them further," Zanrasa added. Neither Red Cap questioned why they had a child before they married. They have no concern for the customs and traditions of other species and only care about fulfilling their master's wishes.
At this, a newfound wave of apprehension came over Hermione. She had thought the clauses she included regarding marriage would save her from having to go through an actual ceremony.
"Ah about that," Tom started, "I propose we do the Rite of Ringwreath. It's the same ceremony and vows my 'minions' used for their own marriages and-"
"No."
The corner of his eye twitched, "No?"
"No," Hermione said firmly. She then picked another flower from the vase. Instead of another parchment, it was just a small piece of paper.
"I am unfamiliar with this rite," Tom's eyes narrowed dangerously at her, not liking what he understood from the passage.
"I doubt you would. Only a handful of people in history went through this, and I only knew because a friend of mine had parents married with it," she answered before taking a deep breath, channeling all of her courage before meeting Tom's eyes again. Her eyes shone with the brilliance of stars, "I am willing to play this game and set up this stage with you, but I will not let this change anything, Tom Marvolo Riddle."
He snorted, "What, just so you could keep your name? Mrs. Riddle-Granger-"
"Everything, Tom," she stressed, "Half of mine for half of yours. And it's Granger-Riddle, for your information. The maiden name comes first."
Tom's eyes widened in shock and understanding. He stood abruptly his chair fell back in a hard thud, startling the two Red Caps who kept watch of their masters.
"You have some nerve," he hissed, voice dripping with venom, "Do you realize what you're asking? If you just want our names hyphenated-"
"No," she refused him again, standing up as well to meet his gaze despite the height difference, "I would never present this if I didn't know exactly what I'm asking. This is more than just mine, if you look closely, this also benefits yours."
"If you give me time, there are other rites-"
"No," she denied for the third time, "I want half of everything, Tom. This is my last condition. We are equals or we are nothing."
Tom's silence was unnerving this time, and Hermione tried not to squirm under such drowning eyes. In another time, she would've called herself mad, and compared this to making a deal with the devil, but she honestly didn't care about that right now. She has no plans of playing on this stage in the long run, and if the price to pay to finish this as soon as possible would be in her expense and kept her son safe, then that would be more than acceptable to her.
"I just have one question," he broke the silence after what felt like an eternity, "Alduin-"
Hermione stiffened at the mention of her son.
"-was it forced?"
Her eyes and lips parted in surprise. Of all the questions he could ask, this was one of those she didn't expect. She couldn't help but swallow as the dark lord before her seemed to bear an even graver expression. As if he was determined to memorize every inch of her face.
She took a deep breath.
"He was… unplanned," she confessed, recalling her own shock at the realization that the newborn baby she held the day she came to this world was explicably hers, "But no, never forced."
"Then, my dearest Honorable Mother, it is done."
There was no lie in her confession and he knew that, because Tom only looked to the side. His eyes closed as if processing what she just said, and the next time he opened them, he met her gaze with a raised hand.
Just like that, their negotiation finished with a shake of hands. No words were needed to be exchanged.
As if on cue, they heard the sound of knocking and they turned to the door behind Hermione and their son revealed half of himself, dressed in comfortable clothes meant for lazing around.
"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything, but it's dinnertime."
"What?!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes snapped to the nearest clock and true enough, it was well past the usual time for her to prepare for dinner. "I'm so sorry, Alduin. I swear I didn't even notice we missed lunch."
The windows were temporarily charmed to show a fake landscape without the passage of time going by, not wanting to have any distractions for this day.
Alduin smiled at her easily, "It's alright, mother. I woke up past lunch anyway."
"Did you just sleep for the whole day?" Tom asked.
"No, I was also reading in the library."
"Then how about we eat out? You can have anything you want."
Whatever mood he had against his father that morning seemed to have washed away at the mention of food, "Then can we have steak?"
"Of course. That should be fine, right?" Tom turned to the mother of his son.
"I- yes, that should be fine," Hermione answered.
"Then I'll go get ready!" Alduin perked up, and moved to return to his room when he finally noticed the two other occupants with his parents. "Oh hello, Ziryushu, and to you, sir. My name is Alduin."
He introduced with a polite smile that made him look majestic despite the plain-looking clothes he wore. While Ziryushu returned his greeting, Zanrasa's jaw hung low as if popped from its hinges. His eyes widened as much as they could. The elder Red Cap turned from the boy, to the witch, to the boy again, and then finally, to his master.
"AS EXPECTED OF MY LIEGE!"
She was surprised when Hector shared this rite to her. He told her how the relationship between his parents wasn't approved by both sides, with his mother being a pureblood and his father- a mere halfblood with nothing to his name, but they were relentless and cared not for the words on his mother's side. And because his mother was a rebel by heart, they eloped and used a rite that only insulted her family more.
It was reckless, unheard of, risky, and completely unacceptable to tradition.
Half thy sorrow, and half thy joy,
Half thy body, and half thy soul,
From life unto death,
Thou and I are whole.
They exchanged their vows with the bright full moon, the stars, and sea as their only witness. With no audience, no fanfare and no one to officiate them. It fit accordingly to Tom's fabricated tale, and Hermione would have it no other way. So long as she is witnessed under the endless sky and the one that lied beyond it.
Hermione blinked when Tom pulled out a velvet box from his pocket.
"Is this really necessary?" she couldn't help but ask.
"This is my last condition," he returned her words back and Hermione took a deep breath through her nose.
She accepted with a nod.
At least they didn't need to exchange a kiss.
She did not, however, expect the ring to be an ouroboros. Other women might be disappointed, expecting a golden band with a giant precious stone, but for Hermione, she would definitely prefer this over any rock.
The second the silver band sat comfortably on their left ring fingers (overcoming a split-second temptation to snatch his family heirloom there), the brunette opened her mouth to question his choice in design.
But before the words left her lips, Tom's arm wrapped around her waist and pressed her body to his. Their skin separated only by the simple robes they wore as opposed to an elaborate dress and robe.
Her eyes widened in shock as his other hand gripped her chin between his forefinger and thumb.
His smile was manic.
"Now you're mine."
In the year 1945, a boy named Tom Marvolo Riddle graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry with the highest honors since the school's founding. Coming from humble beginnings but brimming with intelligence and magical talent, he took up a job at an antique shop called Borgin & Burkes in Knockturn Alley much to the befuddlement of his peers and former professors. After nine years of working as a humble shop boy and gaining enough funds, he resigned from his employment to pursue his passion and further expand his knowledge about magic.
What he didn't expect however, was to meet an extraordinary witch at the start of his journey.
Hermione Jean Granger, an English witch born in the life of travel, had the same purpose as Tom.
Taken to one another the first time they met at a store of magical artefacts in Albania, the two instantly fell in love. Swept by the throes of passion and romance, it wasn't long before they decided to marry. On March 8, 1953, the Granger-Riddle couple was blessed with a son who was the spitting image of his father, with the heart and spirit of his mother.
They named him Alduin Azoth Granger-Riddle.
The family of three continued with their travels, moving across the world learning more about magic and uncovering its secrets while caring for their only child who mean the world to them.
Finally, after a few months since their son's 10th birthday, they decided to return to their homeland to reestablish themselves back in wizarding society.
.
.
.
Or so the story went.
If anybody is familiar, yes, I used some of the boss names in Bloodborne. I love that game so much.
FINALLY we're moving on to the next phase of this story. I have the next chapters in drafts already. Hopefully, I could find the time because I get busier in the Q4 of the year.
Don't worry if I introduce OCs or supporting characters, rest assured every event will still be circling around our key players- Tom, Hermione, and Alduin (he's the only OC with a major role).
Thank you so much for everyone who still stick by and welcome to all the new readers! I love and read all your reviews and know that you are all greatly appreciated.
Take care everybody! And STAY AWESOME!
Ciao~!