Chapter Fifteen
In the name of peace, Tom made himself available immediately after classes ended, allowing Hermione to corner him in a corridor not far from the Great Hall.
"What on earth was all that about?" she demanded after glancing both ways to see that they were alone.
Tom smirked. "All what?" he asked her innocently. He took great pleasure in the way her eye twitched.
Hermione grit her teeth and took a deep breath, visibly calming herself. "Why did you sit next to Tracy Davis in Potions, why did people react strangely when she called you Heir Potter, why were you baiting Professor Umbridge, and why aren't you more upset about what she's doing?"
That was a lengthier list than he'd been expecting, though he supposed he really should have known she would want to know everything. Tom led the way to dinner, waving away her concerns about privacy. None of this was particularly secret information. "I sat next to Davis because I really do want to get to know some Slytherins. I'll have a far easier time reaching my goals if I have members of each House available to me. Reckless bravery has its place, but it's best tempered by cunning ambition." He glanced over to see if Hermione accepted that. He knew that, even among muggle-raised, House prejudices ran deep. Thankfully, Hermione was a more logical Gryffindor than most. "On that note, I'd appreciate it if you could look into Lovegood's schedule. If I'm to make inroads into the other years, it'd be best to start with people I've already met."
Hermione nodded. "Alright then. What about the rest?"
Shooting her an annoyed look - he would have gotten there in a moment - Tom continued, "I'm the heir to House Potter. That's an actual political position. Pureblood society has an entire system of rules and etiquette related to those types of positions." He gave Hermione a wry smile. "In other words, 'I've' been unknowingly offending pureblood students since I arrived at Hogwarts."
"But you were raised by muggles, just like me. You couldn't possibly have known about that as a first year," Hermione protested, frowning.
Tom shrugged. "Dumbledore didn't advertise where he'd placed me. It's not surprising that they assumed whoever was raising me would ensure I received training befitting my position." He waved the problem away. It was what it was, and he would simply have to fix it. "As for our lovely Professor... " He smiled mischievously. "That was just for fun." That was the truth, mostly. If he had to attend school all over again, he needed to get what enjoyment he could out of it, including the sort of petty joy he got at annoying others.
They sat down in the Great Hall next to Ginny, who gave him an irritated look but didn't move, so Tom finished up, saying, "As for your last question… Frankly, I am angry about the situation, but it is rather my fault the position's had such rotten luck. Compared to your other teachers, a disgruntled Ministry official is rather tame, so I'm doing my best to leave it be for now." His face felt annoyingly hot at the reminder of his mistake, and he stabbed at his food harder than necessary.
Hermione was quiet as she ate. "Will you teach me then?" she asked at last.
Tom blinked slowly, not sure what the girl meant.
Hermione added, "Defense. I guess for you, not being taught anything is hardly a problem, but it makes things far more difficult for the rest of us, you know. If you could teach me… maybe a few others…"
Tom tilted his head thoughtfully. He didn't think Hermione actually needed any additional instruction to pass her OWLs, but not everyone could be as brilliant. "I suppose I can teach you and Ginny a few things. Perhaps a few others. I really can't act as anything more than a tutor though."
"Why not?" Hermione asked.
Tom licked his lips and averted his gaze, flushing again. "It relates to the curse," he admitted. "The condition for its removal is… poorly defined, but it requires that 'the position of Defense instructor be filled by someone I find worthy.' If I do more than tutor a few students, magic might consider that sufficient to count as the Defense professor, and I think it's safe to say that I would find myself worthy. I'd rather not risk breaking the curse while she's still the professor." One year he could handle, but if Umbridge stayed longer than that, he would murder her. Dumbledore, hypocrite that he was, would probably object.
"Wait," Ginny said, "what about Crouch last year? Or Quirrel your first year? I guess I can understand why Remus might not have made the cut, but Crouch was working for you and, according to Ron, Quirrel actually had you stuck to the back of his head."
Tom scowled at her, annoyed at being grouped with the wraith of Lord Voldemort. Still, it was a valid question, so he answered. "Barty was insane. He was also a decent teacher for the year he was here, but he had certain… proclivities that would eventually have caused problems, had he remained." Frankly, he'd be surprised if the man had managed to behave for the entire year. It was far more likely that there were some students with missing memories roaming about. "As for Quirrel, he was the teacher, and he chose to use a ridiculous fake stutter that made his class nearly unintelligible." Tom sniffed. "No matter what Voldemort made of him, I don't consider that worthy in the slightest, and it concerns me that Voldemort was willing to accept that for any length of time." Really, spending a decade as a wraith couldn't possibly be good for one's mental health. Even had there been nothing else, this was proof enough that he needed a better form of immortality.
The girls seemed to accept this reasoning and moved on to other, less serious matters. As dinner came to a close though, Ginny tapped his wrist. "Can I speak with you in private?" she asked quietly.
"Of course," Tom said. He waved goodbye to Hermione and followed the red-head out of the Hall and down several passages until they reached an unused classroom. Ginny looked at him expectantly, and Tom obligingly cast a series of wards over the door to ensure their privacy. "Well?" he asked when he finished, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.
Ginny took a deep breath, centering herself. "I want to explain myself," she said. He felt a nearly crippling amount of anxiety from her and silently marveled that she could still operate. "I haven't had a crush on Harry Potter since sometime in my second year. I realized that somehow… what I wanted was not his kindness, but T... but Tom's... his..." She faltered, shook herself, and moved on, shame and embarrassment and heat flaring through the bond. "Anyway, I stopped being interested in Harry Potter, but I didn't want to stop. Harry was good and kind and noble and shy and everything I was supposed to want and more, but I didn't and it was awful and I was terrified someone would realize something was wrong with me and then my entire family would hate me and everyone would hate me and I hated myself so that wasn't so surprising but -" She cut herself off and took several breaths before continuing.
"But this summer, I started to like Harry again. I was so so so relieved. I thought everything was going to be okay. Only it turned out I wasn't falling for Harry again. It was…"
"Me," Tom finished flatly.
Ginny looked away. "Yes."
Silence stretched between them. Tom wasn't entirely surprised by the admission, but he wasn't sure what she expected him to do with it either. At last, Ginny sighed and turned back to him. "I don't understand," she said quietly. "Why do I feel like this? Is something wrong with me?"
Tom considered her, wondering why she was asking him of all people. "I don't know," he said. "I think you know that love is something I've never felt. I don't think I was capable of it as Tom Riddle, and even if being in Potter's body gives me the capacity for it, and I'm not sure it does, I wouldn't know how to express it in any healthy or socially acceptable manner."
Ginny collapsed into a chair and laid her head on the dusty desk with a sigh. When she didn't show any signs of getting back up, Tom moved to sit next to her, though he cast a quick Scourgify on both the chair and desk before doing so. Ginny gave a weak laugh at that. "So fastidious. How on Earth did you survive going into the Chamber?"
"The Impervius charm really is underutilized," Tom commented in lieu of explanation.
Ginny laughed again, then quieted and laid there so still Tom might have thought she'd gone to sleep if he couldn't feel her emotions twisting and turning through the bond. He pulled out a book and read, content to enjoy the silence. At last, as it was nearing curfew, she lifted her head. "What are you going to do about your family?" she asked, eyebrows drawn together in concern.
"What family?" Tom asked back, completely nonplussed.
Rolling her eyes, Ginny gestured to him. "Harry's. The Potter family. If you're taking on the role of Heir Potter, you're going to have to show everyone that you're taking your position seriously. That means, well…" She blushed. "You'll need to have children, and not just one or two. You'll need to show your commitment to restoring the Potter bloodline."
Tom grimaced. He'd rather been hoping to avoid thinking about that for a while longer yet. "I can wait on that until I've come of age, at least," he evaded. Ginny merely stared at him, eyebrow cocked, until he sighed. "I will probably choose some manner of useful ritual to perform concurrently and have my… partner and I take fertility potions both to ensure they conceive and to raise the probability of twins. That will reduce the number of encounters required."
"And who exactly do you expect this partner to be?" Ginny asked, exasperated, as though he should have known that was her real question all along.
Tom said nothing.
Ginny nodded shortly. "Right, well, you should probably figure that out, since you can't just walk up to some random witch and tell her to have sex with you to continue the Potter line."
Tom frowned. That was true, he supposed. Women did generally prefer to have some sort of relationship with the man first, didn't they? "Fine. Ginny, when the time comes, you will help me produce the requisite children."
The red-head gaped at him. He didn't know why. He only had three women he was even remotely close to, and Ginny had already admitted to being attracted to him, so she was the obvious choice.
"Do you even like me?" she demanded.
Tom tilted his head. "You're reasonably intelligent and powerful, and you've proven to be trustworthy as well. Any children produced by our union would almost certainly be worthy of bearing the Potter name, and I believe you would be capable of finding satisfactory care for them."
Ginny scowled through a fierce blush. "That's a no, then."
Tom stared blankly at her, annoyance surging through him. "I thought you understood this. That is as close to 'liking someone' as I'm likely to get." She was the one who wanted to discuss this in the first place, so why was she getting upset about it?
"Well I want the person I'm with to actually be interested in me!" Ginny said heatedly.
Tom stood, grabbed her wrist, and jerked her closer to him, making her scramble to retain her balance. "No you don't," he hissed. "You might wish you wanted that, but you don't."
Ginny paled, freckles standing out against the nearly white skin on her cheeks. She licked her lips. "What do you think I want then?" she asked. Whatever emotion she meant to put into her words was absent, leaving only a kind of breathlessness.
"Me." Tom stared into dilated brown eyes. "You're mine, and I won't let you pretend otherwise." He could feel something hot through the bond, and as uncomfortable as it made him, he also revelled in the knowledge that he was right. "You're correct that I'm not interested in you as a woman, but you nevertheless belong to me, and I will use you in whatever manner I see fit." He gave her a moment to digest that, then added, softly, "If nothing else, I will never look down on you for being yourself. If your fears become truth, and everyone else turns away from you, I will still be here." It was even more uncomfortable voicing such sentimentality, but he hadn't been entirely oblivious to the relationships around him in school. He knew the power of revealing a supposed softer side.
For several seconds, Ginny stared at him, wide eyed. Then she pulled away, and he let her. Her gaze flickered about the room uncomfortably. "What about Hermione?" she asked quietly.
"...What?" Tom replied. His eyes narrowed. Was Ginny interested in Hermione as well? He supposed that, as two of his possessions, it was theoretically ideal if they enjoyed each others' presence.
Ginny huffed. "What are you going to do if Hermione's attracted to you?"
Or not. Merlin, did he have to discuss this tonight? If he could be assured this would be the last time, that would be one thing, but he had the unpleasant feeling that it would be a reoccurring topic. "Why in the world would she be attracted to me?" he asked with a tired sigh.
"Well," Ginny drawled, "let's see… You're intelligent, powerful, physically attractive, and oh, yeah, the only guy she spends any time with now that you've sent Ron away. No, you're right, I can't think why I thought she might fall for you."
"I'm also a psychopath and a half century older than her," Tom bit back. "I wouldn't even be entertaining this topic if you weren't correct that, for the sake of appealing to the purebloods, I'll have to… to have... children. " He swallowed, hot bile rising at the very idea. He was beginning to remember why he'd gone the route of murdering half the population in the first place. Shame that wasn't an option at present.
Ginny waved off his protest. "Anyone your actual age interested in you would be questionable at best, so you're just going to have to deal with age being a bit awkward."
"I suppose being a psychopath isn't a problem in your eyes?"
"Not really," Ginny admitted easily. At least she seemed fully recovered from her previous mood. "I guess Hermione might care, but honestly, so long as you're committed to playing Harry Potter, I don't see why it matters."
Tom rolled his eyes. "Fine. In the unlikely scenario in which Hermione falls for me, I will have her share the burden with you. Having more than one donor will be better for the bloodline anyway." He cast a silent Tempus. "We're skirting curfew. Are you done subjecting me to this inanity for the night?"
"Mmhmm, that's all I wanted," Ginny said, suddenly smiling mischievously.
Tom had the strangest feeling that he'd somehow doomed himself, but he couldn't for the life of him see how else he could have answered. He'd only taken the most logical options available to him.
As he laid down that night, his mind wouldn't stop picking over the conversation, looking for where it went wrong. He was seriously contemplating Obliviating himself at this rate. Eventually, he pointed his wand at himself and cast, "Stupify."
He didn't see Ginny at breakfast the next day, mostly because he spent his time before classes in the Room of Requirement. If he happened to then spend every free moment there until dinner as well, it wasn't because he was avoiding her. He simply wasn't interested in speaking with anyone at present.
Nonetheless, when he arrived at the Great Hall for dinner, he sighed a little in relief when he spotted her surrounded by other fourth-year Gryffindors further down the table. He slid in next to Hermione, who raised an eyebrow, but let his avoidance go without comment. Instead, she withdrew a library book from her bag. It was the one he'd given her.
"You read this?" she asked.
Tom gave her a flat look. Would he have told her to read it if he hadn't?
She pushed her plate away and set the book down. "Sorry. I just…" She shook her head, waving vaguely toward the book.
He understood. Originally, in Salazar Slytherin's time, muggleborn were a problem for reasons that weren't really applicable now. Muggleborn children no longer came to Hogwarts needing extra lessons just to keep up with their pure- and half-blood classmates. They no longer brought diseases, nor did their inclusion in wizarding society significantly risk muggles discovering Hogwarts and razing it to the ground.
However, they presented a whole different problem now, and with any luck, Hermione would realize that she was guilty of many of the offenses that made purebloods continue to look down on her kind.
"You can't honestly believe that this is why people like Malfoy hate muggleborns," Hermione said, shaking her head.
Of course she would need it explained to her. Merlin forbid she perform some self-reflection. "I think," Tom said slowly, "that it makes it easy for people like Malfoy to continue thinking the way they do. Think about it, Hermione. Malfoy has to have seen muggle London. He can't possibly have missed that cars are fast or that muggles have electric lights or that London hosts buildings taller than Hogwarts. Yet nevermind blood purists, even purebloods who like muggles think they must live terrible lives, and that lacking magic is a near-insurmountable disadvantage."
Seeing that Hermione was listening, he continued, "How can they do that? Because they see typical muggleborns coming into their world, disrespecting everything they care about, and blood purists stop being willing to see muggleborns as anything more than intruders. They probably don't even realize it, but people like Malfoy come to Hogwarts primed to dislike muggleborns for one set of reasons and then, when muggleborns are unlikeable, they equate that as meaning their initial beliefs were correct, regardless of the evidence.
"Then there are the well-meaning but misguided 'pro-muggle' purebloods like Arthur Weasley. No doubt he didn't come to Hogwarts with the same beliefs as blood purists, but when he saw muggleborns acting rudely and struggling to fit in, he likely attributed it to muggle life having been… lesser."
Hermione set her jaw in a determined expression. "But what about us is so disagreeable?"
Tom sighed, running a hand down his face. He closed his eyes, thinking. Finally, he looked at her. "Hermione, if you went to Japan, you'd be expected to take off your shoes in the morning when you got to school and change into a different pair. If you started attending school there and, faced with this, made comments on how quaint or old-fashioned or silly that was, bringing up how in Britain, we do this instead, would you be surprised if your Japanese classmates disliked you for it? Perhaps looked down on you for it? Maybe even thought that the British in general were inferior to them?"
"Of course not," Hermione said, looking offended. "But I wouldn't do that in the first place."
With a nod, Tom stared pointedly at her until she caught his implication.
"But that's totally dif-"
"No, it's not Hermione," Tom said forcefully. "Magical Britain is not just muggle Britain with magic, just as South Korea is not just North Korea but located further south. They are different countries altogether. You, and most muggle-raised students, come to Hogwarts and immediately start trampling over our traditions and culture without taking any time to learn about us first." He grabbed a quill and held it up. "For instance, a lot of muggleborn complain about using quills and parchment. They like to use it as proof that wizarding society is behind. You've been studying ahead though, Hermione, so tell me, how well would enchantments bind to the materials that make up a typical muggle pen?"
The brunette drew in a sharp breath, the connection forming. Tom nodded. "At best, the magic would dissipate quickly, at worst it might cause the pen to explode. And sure, there are ways to work around that, but why bother when quills are already widely available, easy to produce, and easily enchanted?"
Hermione frowned. "But you can't tell me that applies to everything equally."
"No, I can't," Tom agreed. "But by the time a muggleborn gets to the point where they can recognize the difference between reasonable and unreasonable traditions, they've already offended the purebloods around them so much that no one's willing to listen to them. And that's not even including the effect muggle religions have had on our connection to Magic."
He smiled. "So, Hermione, I have a task for you. I want you to come up with a plan to integrate muggleborn children into magical society such that this will eventually cease to be a problem."
Hermione blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, Hermione, that I don't intend to let magical society go on like this. Voldemort was gone for almost fifteen years, but nothing's changed. Defeating him won't fix anything by itself, and I've no doubt that you'd object to my method of correcting this issue." At her sharp look, he smiled thinly. "That's why I'm giving you advance warning. Come up with a workable plan before graduation."
In truth, Tom had already devised several different plans, but they all contained elements he was sure Hermione would find objectionable. If, however, she studied the issue on her own, he was confident she would come to similar conclusions. People tended to accept things more easily if they believed it to have been their idea in the first place.
Hermione nodded slowly, worrying at her lip as she considered it. "I'll need more information," she said after thinking things through. "I don't know what you mean by our connection to magic, for instance."
"Naturally," Tom said. "I'd be happy to help, but it will have to wait. I have a detention this evening, if you'll recall." He gestured to the Hall, which was beginning to empty. "It's just about time for me to go."
The girl wrinkled her nose and gave him a half-hearted glare. "Don't get yourself into any more trouble," she demanded.
Tom waved away her concerns and set off toward the DADA classroom.
Professor Umbridge was there and waiting, a long black quill in hand. She smiled broadly, presumably unaware how much it increased her toadishness, and gestured for him to take a seat. "We'll be doing lines tonight, Mister Potter. Here are your supplies."
Tom hissed the moment he touched the quill, eyes narrowing. "A blood quill," he said flatly, recognizing the feel of its magic against his skin. It was irritating that she'd managed to obtain one when he never had. Used correctly, the geas one produced could be more effective than the Imperius.
Umbridge looked surprised for all of half a second before a pleased smirk spread across her face. "I see I don't need to explain your punishment to you," she said. The smirk widened, distorting her face grotesquely. "I think a good line for you to write would be… Hmmm… I must not question my betters. That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it Mister Potter."
Tom sent her an incredulous look. Did she, perhaps, not understand how this artifact worked? Or was she simply an idiot? Well, it made things easier for him either way, so he wouldn't complain. He dutifully wrote the sentence, fully aware that he had no betters and blocking off the pain with Occlumency. It wasn't perfect, but it helped dull the sensation enough that he was able to act as though it didn't bother him. This was, perhaps, not the best tack to take if he wanted to avoid more pain than necessary. However, as the sky darkened and he watched the words carve themselves into the back of his hand, he could barely conceal his grin.
If he understood her correctly, and he rather thought he did, Hermione was the sort of person who would never break the rules for herself, but for the well-being of a friend? Especially after this past summer… It wouldn't work on Ginny, he thought, because she was far too suspicious and knew him a bit better than he was comfortable with, but Hermione should fall into line perfectly. Tom hummed almost inaudibly under his breath as he wrote, enjoying the suspicious looks he received from Umbridge. He looked forward to seeing just what his friend would make of this.
AN: Alright, so Inktober is OVER! Yaaaaaayyyyyy. I tried to do more actual black and white this year, and I feel like some pictures came out reasonably well. You can search for yvonnec0135 or Corinne Pyle on twitter if you're interested, but there's literally nothing Harry Potter there so… It's mostly Inktober and genshin impact and mom-of-a-toddler stuff at the moment. In ANY case, NaNoWriMo starts today, so take some words and rest assured that I will spend all 50k words on this fanfic. Not that I don't want to work on my nano from like…. four(?) years ago, but I want to properly devote myself to that when I get around to it, so I'd like to finish this first. Besides, practicing actually finishing things is a good idea, right?
As for reviews relating to what happens to Umbridge… Well, I initially planned on Tom murdering her before term was up, because gods she's annoying. However, after I got to actually writing them interacting, I realized that I was wrong. Tom has the self-control to avoid murdering her right away if he can see something in it for him, so… Sorry, but if you were hoping he'd kill her, that's (probably) not going to happen.
And yes, he's asexual. I'd like to be clear though that asexual takes a lot of forms, so that doesn't necessarily mean there will never be anything.
To Hippothestrowl, I've read a lot of different HP fanfics over the past… decade… or so, and I've come to the conclusion that a lot of things in Harry Potter depend on your mindset. I've read fanfics that made Dumbledore's actions and the lack of media and police and all of that make perfect sense, but I've naturally also read plenty that take these things as proof that Dumbledore is manipulative at best, flat-out evil at worst. Tom is, of course, going to see anything Dumbledore does poorly, but the truth is…. Well, I'd like to leave it up to the reader as much as possible. I don't intend to ever have a Dumbledore POV anyway.
