Chapter Nineteen
First thing in the morning, Tom sent Ginny back to her dorm, then headed down to the dungeons. He rapped on the door to Severus's rooms, and waited while the man cursed and undid the wards defending his rooms. The door opened. Severus wasn't even out of his night clothes yet, and Tom was amused to see that the man slept in all black as well. "Come in," Severus said shortly. Not a morning person then. Tom pretended he hadn't known the man was still asleep when he knocked.
Once inside, Tom looked around curiously. He'd seen these rooms before, but only in Severus' memories. The theme was on the darker side of things, but it was made with an eye toward comfort, and Tom could smell essential oils in the air. "Aromatherapy, Severus?" he asked with a smirk. "How very muggle."
"How else am I meant to survive living in a school full of potions accidents waiting to happen?" the man retorted. "What do you need?"
Reminded of his original purpose in coming, Tom grimaced and sat down on a firm couch with a sigh. "I require a potion to heal magical burns," he said. "Potter's magic is neutral, but it's been acclimating to my presence surprisingly well, so I'd prefer one capable of handling dark magic as well." To the best of his knowledge, there'd been no study done on the effects of possession on one's magic when the original owner no longer resided in the body, so it was better not to take chances.
Severus was already going through a cabinet full of various ingredients and potions. Tom assumed at least some of them were potions the man kept on hand to use as needed after Death Eater meetings. Tom stood and watched over the man's shoulder. He recognized some of them, but many were unlabeled, and he wasn't a Potions master. After a few seconds, the spy handed him two separate creams. "This will take care of whomever you burned," the man said, tone carefully neutral, though Tom could feel the censure through the bond, "and this will prevent your nerves from transmitting the pain from using the Blood Quill." Severus turned back to the cabinet and retrieved a jar full of slimy tentacle-like appendages. "Unfiltered murtlap essence. I trust you know how to use this," he added.
Tom wrinkled his nose and nodded. "Strain it and apply to the injured area," he recited, earning an approving nod from his professor. He put the potions into his bag, careful to keep them cushioned and upright.
"Who was it?" Severus asked suddenly.
Tom blinked, then realized what he was referring to. "Luna Lovegood. She took it upon herself to offer an outlet for my magic before it could find a more suitable target in Madam Umbridge." Thinking about it made an uncomfortable feeling twist through him, something he'd been feeling ever since it'd happened. He didn't like it, and he hoped that giving Luna the means to heal herself would fix it. He stood, preparing to leave.
Before he could open the door, Severus spoke up once more. "That feeling is guilt," the man said. He didn't sound any different, but something similar to pity filtered through the bond.
Tom smoothly continued on his way out and up to Ravenclaw Tower without hesitation. The words spun through his mind though. Could Potter really have given him the ability to feel guilt? What a useless emotion. Tom frowned as he walked. If this was what people called 'having a conscience,' he wondered that everyone seemed to consider having one a good thing. It certainly seemed like nothing more than a nuisance.
When he reached the eagle that guarded Ravenclaw Tower, Tom cocked his head. "May I enter?" he asked. Hopefully it didn't know who he was, because he was fairly certain Helena Ravenclaw would never forgive him, and who knew what power she might have over the statues in this dorm.
"What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?" it croaked.
"A river," Tom said easily.
"Indeed." The eagle granted him entrance, and Tom had to sigh at Ravenclaw's utter lack of security.
Inside, the few students awake at this hour looked up to see who could be coming in so early. One dark-skinned girl stood, lips pursed, and moved to block his way with her hands on her hips. Tom recognized her as the poor thing that had ended up as Ron's date to the Yule Ball last year. Padma Patil, he thought. "Potter," she said. "What are you doing in our Common Room? How did you get in?" The hostility in her tone was clear, and Tom wished anew that this body's former occupant had been less of an idiot.
Still, it was a struggle not to say something sarcastic. Did she really think that only Ravenclaws were capable of answering riddles? "I needed to speak with Miss Lovegood as soon as possible," he said with a charming smile.
Patil glared at him suspiciously. "What do you need with her?"
"We're going to feed the thestrals together," said an airy voice from behind Patil. Luna smiled at Tom and took his hand. "Come along Harry Potter, let us go take them their breakfast now." She led him not just out of the Common Room, but also down the stairs, out the front doors, and toward the gamekeeper's hut.
"Are we actually going to feed the thestrals?" Tom asked, nonplussed.
Luna nodded. "I go every morning. Professor Grubbly-plank tends to wake up quite a bit later than Hagrid did, and I'd rather not make them change their schedule for her if Hagrid's still planning to return."
Tom blinked, working through her sentence. "That's... very conscientious of you," he said after a moment.
Luna laughed at him. "If you don't know what to say, you don't need to say anything," she told him. "What did you need to see me about?"
Tom stopped, pulling her up short, and brought up their still intertwined hands. Hers had angry red burns spread across it. "Take this," he said, placing the jar of cream into her uninjured hand. "It will soothe the skin and heal it. My magic tends toward darkness, so it's possible they won't heal otherwise."
"How very conscientious of you," Luna teased, but she was smiling her very pure smile.
They made small talk while Luna fed the thestrals great bloody hunks of meat, and Tom brought up the study session that weekend with Hermione and Ginny. Luna clapped excitedly and agreed to come with her plus one.
On their way back, Luna quietly hummed until they reached the castle. "Thank you, Tom Riddle," Luna murmured rather than open the door. Louder, she added, "Being provisional friends is even better than I'd anticipated. It almost feels real."
"Have a good day, Luna," Tom said.
"You as well, not Harry Potter," she sang back, and they entered the castle and parted ways.
On Thursday, during Potions, Tom partnered not with Davis, as he had been, but Greengrass.
"What are you doing, Potter?" the blonde asked as she stirred the potion. Because Tom usually performed that task with Davis, she'd offered to prepare the ingredients instead, even though she also tended to be the one in charge of the brewing process. Tom was well aware of this and had declined. No point making her any more irritable than she already was.
"I'm starting study sessions on the weekends for students who are possibly not getting the full instruction they feel they require in a certain subject," Tom told her without lifting his eyes from the knife. He could prepare ingredients, but he wasn't as skilled at it as he was at most things, so he had to pay some attention to what he was doing.
Greengrass sniffed. "Are you asking if I'd like to join you, Potter?"
"No," Tom said with a slight shake of his head. "I'm asking if you, Miss Davis, and Miss Bulstrode would like to join me."
"Why ask me first?"
"Because they're under your protection, so they'd need to ask you anyway," Tom replied. In order to avoid following Malfoy, they would have to be under the protection of an equally powerful family. Bulstrode and Davis were not even entirely pureblood, so it had to be Greengrass who was providing that service.
That surprised her, and they worked in silence for several minutes as she considered it. "I suppose your mudblood and blood traitor friends will be there as well?"
"Miss Granger and Miss Weasley will be there, yes," Tom said with a hint of warning. "I've told them they may each bring one additional person. I've told the same to Miss Lovegood in Ravenclaw. The three of you, if you decide to come, may also bring one additional person each. However, and this applies to everyone equally, if someone is preventing others from learning, they will be dismissed."
Greengrass bowed her head, acknowledging that she'd been impolite. "You've grown up, Potter. Just last year, using either of those terms would have set you off."
Tom smiled tightly at her. "Yes, well, watching one's classmate be killed is a bit of a life-changing experience."
Light pink suffused her cheeks. "My apologies, Heir Potter. That was thoughtless of me."
Tom waved away her apology.
Class was ending when Greengrass spoke again. "We'll be there. Where should we meet you?"
"By the lake for this first session. I need to make sure the unknown guests are acceptably well-behaved before I set anything in stone." Tom finished cleaning up his station, turned in a sample of their potion, and left.
Hermione seemed irritated all through lunch, and she kept making small little sniffs and discontent sounds while glancing toward him when she thought he wasn't looking. By the time the meal was halfway finished, he'd had enough. He stood, crossed the room to the Ravenclaw table, and sat down next to Luna.
"What are you doing here now, Potter?" asked Patil from a few seats down the table. She looked exasperated with him this time rather than upset, which Tom counted as an improvement. He wondered how Luna had managed that.
Tom shrugged. "Hermione's miffed about something or other, and I'm not interested in playing guessing games, so I decided to join my other best friend here," he said. Actually, he expected that she'd feel better faster if he just asked, but it went against his pride to give in.
Luna cocked her head to the side. "Does Ginny not count?" she wondered.
Tom pretended to consider it, smirking. Leaning close to Luna's ear, he murmured, "Our relationship is much more one of owner and pet, I think."
To his surprise, the blonde gave him a reproachful look. "If that's the case, I have some questions about your sexuality," she told him seriously. "I know that sort of thing isn't as uncommon as it should be, but I think you should reconsider your position before engaging in any sexual activity."
Some of the Ravenclaws close enough to hear her started coughing. "Damn it, Lovegood, we told you to wait until no one's eating to say that kind of thing!" shouted one boy after a particularly hard coughing fit.
Tom found himself laughing even as he flushed, not having considered that angle. "Ah… no," he finally said. "You're quite right, and I apologize. Ginny can be my other other best friend."
"Do you know what Granger's upset about?" Patil asked a while later.
Tom considered it. "I suppose something in Potions. She was fine beforehand. We didn't even talk though, so I'm not sure what I could have done."
Patil sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I suppose I might as well tell you. It's going around school that you and Greengrass were looking quite familiar with each other during Potions. They're saying that you've dumped Granger for Greengrass, so Granger's probably jealous."
Tom shook his head with a snort. "Don't be ridiculous. Hermione… She knows me too well to possibly be jealous."
Luna raised an eyebrow. "Just like Ginny does?" she asked.
Tom winced. "Touche," he muttered. "But Hermione's more reasonable than Ginny. I'm sure it's nothing."
Sure enough, by dinner, Hermione was over it, and Tom sent a smug look in the direction of the Ravenclaw table before he left for detention.
The week continued quite normally, save for the nightly detentions. At last, the weekend arrived, as did the end of Tom's detentions with Umbridge. Even with the murtlap essence, he could see scars forming, but by using the cream from Severus, he was able to make it through each detention with a minimal amount of pain. That didn't help with the ache from the wounds after the fact, but he was grateful that at least he didn't have to feel them being carved into his flesh.
In the morning, just before leaving for the study session, Tom asked Longbottom if he'd like to join. Longbottom was the other child the prophecy could have referred to, and he dearly hoped there was some manner of potential there. For all Potter's luck, he'd been such a mediocre student that Tom felt secondhand embarrassment for Voldemort. The man had been unable to best an eleven-year-old boy whose only real skill was catching the Snitch.
They were the last to arrive, and Tom took a moment to study the other students. If their positioning could be trusted, it looked as though Ginny had brought Ron (though she looked more resigned about it than anything, so Tom suspected she'd done so simply out of loyalty to her family). Hermione had brought Susan Bones from Hufflepuff, and Luna had brought Padma Patil. The three Slytherin girls seemed to have only brought one other: Blaise Zabini. Tom nodded to himself. All fair choices.
He caught their attention. "Let's begin," Tom said, looking around at the gathered students. "Hermione asked me to run this group because I've spent the summer learning defense from a master of it." In a manner of speaking, anyway. "For much of this year, we'll be learning how to properly respond to dark magic. In other words, I will be casting stinging hexes at you, but I will call out the names of various curses instead. The more powerful the curse, the more powerful I'll make the stinging hex, so I expect you to dodge these or use some manner of object to block them. I won't do this for the entire session, but I will make you spend some time on it each session."
Longbottom raised his hand. Tom raised an eyebrow at him. "This isn't class. What is it?"
"Um… how can you be sure you'll cast the right spell if you're saying the words for a different spell?" the boy asked timidly.
Tom nodded. "The reason is twofold. First, I can silently cast the stinging hex, so it really doesn't matter what words I'm saying as I cast it. Second, my magic is not used to casting those spells, so it would be difficult for me to accidentally cast them. Remember, the more you use a certain spell, the more used to casting it your magic becomes." That was true of Potter's magic, but honestly, Tom had developed this technique decades ago to confuse his enemies.
Hermione was next. "Why are we doing this?" she asked, frowning. "I thought we'd be doing more… Learning spells and such."
Tom gave her a not-very-nice smile. "Because too many people freeze up when they hear one of these curses, and it kills them." He looked around at the group. "A commonality of all the curses I will be training you to dodge is that vanishingly few witches or wizards are able to cast them silently."
With that, he flicked his wand toward Ginny. "Avada Kedavra," he said, still smiling.
A few people screamed, Ginny loudest of all. Hers was the only voice that was more angry than frightened though. "Bugger all!" she cursed, lifting the hem of her shirt to reveal an angry-looking welt already forming. "Do you have to make it that strong?"
Tom shrugged. "It's not much of an incentive to improve if it doesn't hurt." He feigned casting a blood-boiling curse at Luna next and was pleased when she threw herself out of the way without waiting to hear what he was saying. Of course, she'd left herself wide open to any follow-up curses, but it was only the first day. Tom wasn't completely heartless.
So went the first twenty minutes of the study session. Once all eleven students were out of breath and no longer able to move well enough to dodge, Tom relented. "Well done, Luna, Davis, and Bulstrode. Longbottom, you think too much. Even a muggle can dodge, so I don't want to hear any nonsense about being bad at magic. Hermione, this isn't a competition. I really don't care how you avoid getting hit so long as you do. Patil… I didn't expect it from you, but well done on realizing that your fellow students count as objects that can block curses. Not, perhaps, something to do with allies, but quite useful if you're facing more than one opponent."
Tom gave them a moment to consider their performance, then continued. "From here, we'll be covering some misconceptions about duelling theory."
"Sometimes, muggleborn or raised get the fun idea that just about any spell can be used to kill another person." Tom tilted his head toward Hermione, who looked like she was now considering how each spell in her repertoire might be used lethally. "What do you think?"
With a grimace, she sighed. "I'm guessing from your tone that that's wrong, but I don't know why. A simple levitation spell could be used to drop someone from high up, and a charm to cut cloth could be used to cut flesh instead."
Tom glanced around, but no one else seemed willing to offer up an answer. He smiled. "As it happens, Slinkhard actually covers this, but he does it so obliquely that you almost have to know the information already to understand it." He flicked his wand and conjured a pig. "Hermione, can you cut this in half please?"
She did so, looking very ill at ease. The pig died, and Tom banished it.
"Now, would you mind cutting my arm? Preferably not in half. That would be significantly harder to heal, so perhaps just to the bone if you can manage." He held out his arm, still covered by his sleeve, and looked at her expectantly.
With a grimace, Hermione cast, "Diffindo." Tom almost felt touched by her obvious faith in him.
Tom's robe split neatly, but only a small cut appeared on the skin underneath. Hermione, on the other hand, gasped and paled, sweat beading on her brow.
Tom gestured to her. "Casting your average spell on a magical being takes significantly more energy. It can be done, of course, but you'll be exhausted afterwards. This is because the target has its own magic that will resist yours. Spells meant to be used to affect people all have a common component in their arithmetic equation that alters the spell so it can attune to the target's magic, letting it slide through easily." He nodded to Hermione in thanks and conjured a pillow for her to sit on, which she did gratefully.
Zabini raised his hand and, with a sly smirk toward Greengrass, who was looking quite superior for whatever reason, asked, "You brought up a misconception common among muggleborns. Can I assume you have an example of a misconception common among purebloods?"
"Something like that," Tom agreed. "Miss Greengrass, can you tell me why truly light and dark magic is no longer taught as a core part of the curriculum?"
Greengrass sniffed disdainfully. "A few reasons. Muggleborns have more trouble with both since their magic is neutral, so as more of them enter our society, classes have been restricted to accommodate them." Tom was impressed that she said that without a single glance at the sole muggleborn in their midst. "Additionally, too much use of either at a young age changes a person fundamentally. It's important to wait until our magic has settled before using very much of either type of magic." Now she glanced sideways toward the Gryffindors in the group. "Finally, the Light demanded we cut dark magic from the curriculum, and we made them remove light magic in exchange." She scowled. "As unfair as that exchange may have been for us."
Tom ignored the indignation brewing on the so-called 'light' side of the group. "Wrong, partially correct, correct, and entirely wrong," he told her smugly.
The blonde Slytherin's eyes narrowed. "Fine, you explain it then," she sneered. Beside her, Davis sighed and put her head in her hands, while Zabini sniggered.
"Gladly," Tom said. "But I'd like to leave the topic of muggleborns and magic affinity for next week if you don't mind." Upon receiving a careless shrug from Greengrass, he continued.
"Using too much light or dark magic changes a person because many of the spells have certain emotional requirements. If you are constantly putting yourself into certain moods to cast spells, those moods will become more common for you in general. That's simply a matter of psychology. There's nothing magical about it." Tom shrugged. "As you might expect, having already emotionally unstable teenagers making themselves even more emotionally unstable is something most sane individuals would prefer to avoid.
"You're correct that light and dark magic were so thoroughly removed from the curriculum at the demands of the opposing factions, but it was hardly an unfair exchange." Tom raised his wand, aiming toward the lake shore, and took a deep breath. He'd practiced this the day before, and Potter's magic was still just neutral enough to manage it safely. "Flamae purgation," he incanted, keeping the image of what he wanted fixed firmly within his mind.
White fire exploded from the sand and raced outward. Even from fifty or so meters away, it was hot enough that Tom felt his skin prickling. Already, grass and trees nearby were combusting, the orange flames of their burgeoning fires twining with the white and spiraling into the air. Given a few more seconds, Tom knew, even he would begin to burn.
With the same iron willpower that allowed him to split his soul more than once and remain coherent, Tom snuffed out the flames, extending his conrol to the rest of the fire through its connection to the original flame.
He smiled charmingly at Greengrass, whose fair skin already showed the angry red of a sunburn, and tossed her a bottle. "I asked Professor Snape to brew this in preparation for this demonstration," he explained, giving each person their own bottle, though he didn't drink one himself. Just as dark magic resisted healing by others, light magic resisted healing of oneself - which, he'd learned, included potions.
"W-what was that?" Ron stuttered, eyes wide.
"Light magic," Zabini drawled. "Obviously." Though he affected a calm demeanor, his body was tense.
"Be nice," Tom said curtly, though he still conceded the point with a slight incline of his head. "But yes, it was light magic. Most light spells have been lost to time, but a few can still be found if you know where to look. That was the Original Flame. It will consume only what you ask of it," he said, gesturing to the glass that now bordered the lake, "but it is hot enough that if you don't have enough control to extinguish it quickly, everything around it will begin to ignite. That normal fire will combine and fuel the Original Flame, making it hotter and spreading its influence." He grinned. "Towns have been destroyed in that way before the summoner perished."
As the potion worked its magic, Greengrass went from red to an unhealthy pallor. "That's what light magic is capable of?" she breathed. "But then why…"
"Are you taught that it's weak?" Tom asked wryly. "Some combination of ignorance and politics, I'd assume. After all, the only widely known light spell remaining is the Patronus, while spells like the Unforgivables and Fiendfyre are what remain of dark magic."
"Anyway," Tom continued, addressing the group at large again. "Another reason light and dark magic aren't taught anymore is that they can't be blocked magically. Some can't be blocked at all, though most can be blocked by a physical shield. Again, refusing to teach magic like that with our student to teacher ratio is the only rational decision."
"Why are you explaining this?" Davis asked, eyes narrowed. "It can't just be because Blaise is an arsehole."
Zabini shoved her, and she shoved him back, but they were both smiling.
"It's not," Tom admitted. "It's more of a segue to the next topic." He ignored the way Hermione was glaring at him. She'd wanted to take notes, and he'd made her leave her bag in her dorm room, saying it would primarily be a practical lesson. "Do any of you already know what type of magic you have an affinity for, if any? For instance, my magic is neutral but dark leaning."
Greengrass nodded. "Dark," she said curtly. She pointed at Davis, Bulstrode, and Zabini in turn, saying, "Neutral, dark, and light."
Patil offered up, "Dark," while Longbottom stutteringly said, "Light," and Bones said, "Neutral." Luna chirped, "All of the above," and beamed at him even as everyone else shot her annoyed looks. Tom resolved to look into whether that was true, because he wouldn't put it past Luna to say it for fun, but he also wouldn't put it past her bloodline to have an absurd affinity.
Hermione frowned, not appreciating being out of the loop. "What does that even mean?"
To everyone's surprise, Longbottom answered her. "There are three different magical alignments. People whose magic is light or dark aligned have an easier time casting those spells. Natural-I mean neutral magic is what it sounds like. Not better or worse at any particular kind of spell." He flushed bright red at the word mixup, but also looked a bit proud to have taught Hermione Granger something.
"Well said, Neville," Tom praised with a smile. "Indeed. It's not as though a light-aligned wizard couldn't cast the Killing Curse, and dark-aligned wizards can cast the Patronus. It's merely a matter of how much effort it takes to get the same results." He paused. "I suppose I should mention now that dark-aligned wizards are not necessarily Dark wizards. The same goes with light-alignment and Light wizards."
Ginny tilted her head curiously. "What do you mean?"
Greengrass snorted, and Tom turned to look at her. "Something funny, Greengrass?"
The blonde quelled under his stare. "Nothing," she murmured. A nice benefit of showing off his magical power and control was that the Slytherins would fall into line without too much protest.
"Good." Tom looked back to Ginny. "Light and Dark are simultaneously magical alignments, political stances, and moral propaganda." He raised one finger. "Magical alignments, we just covered." He raised a second finger. "Politically, Light wizards are the faction centered around Dumbledore and his ilk, while Dark wizards are largely grouped together with the Malfoy family, though neither faction is as cohesive as that. That's beyond the scope of this study group though, so if you're interested, go ask someone else another time."
He raised his third finger. "Finally, from a moral propaganda perspective, Light stands for good and just, while Dark stands for evil." He shrugged. "The definition of the latter two changes with the times, and all you really need to know is that no one has to be the same for all three categories. For the purpose of these sessions, please assume that when I say dark, I mean the dark magical alignment unless I say otherwise."
Tom turned to Bulstrode, who tensed as though expecting him to say something awful. It was likely an unfortunate side effect of having troll blood in her bloodline while being raised alongside pureblood supremacists. Worse, her father had married an exceedingly thin, petite, buxom blonde in a failed attempt to ensure his progeny would be better off than he had been as a child. Tom suspected that the only real result had been an inferiority complex.
The real tragedy though was that she wasn't even unattractive. Millicent Bulstrode would never be anything as dainty as pretty or beautiful, but she promised to become a handsome woman. Tom knew plenty of his Death Eaters would have been pleased to have a woman like that at their sides, but teenagers were cruel in their own ways.
Still, none of that was any of his concern. "Miss Bulstrode, can you explain how one determines their magical alignment?"
The girl blinked owlishly for a moment before clearing her throat. "Um… It's a ritual," she said quietly, looking nervous. "It takes some blood, some magic, and some… fluid…" she finished, turning bright red.
Davis smirked at Hermione. "That means that guys've gotta provide some semen, and girls need to use some menstrual fluid."
"Don't be crass, Tracey," Greengrass snapped, her own cheeks a pretty pink.
Tom rolled his eyes. "That's the gist of it," he agreed. He noticed Ginny looking at him speculatively and, when she caught his gaze, she raised her eyebrows. Tom grit his teeth and ignored her. "So I'd appreciate it if everyone could bring the necessary supplies next week. If we know your alignment, we can optimize your ability to fight magically. Of course, it's not a requirement, so if you're too uncomfortable to collect the ingredients, don't worry about it."
Ginny raised her hand. Tom closed his eyes and took a breath before asking, "Yes, Ginny?"
"Will you be performing this ritual as well?" she asked far too innocently, ignoring Ron's scandalized 'Ginny!'.
"Yes," Tom replied shortly. He looked around. "If anyone wants to bring someone else to this study group, you may, but it's up to you to tell them what we'll be doing. We'll meet next week at the same time, but on the seventh floor."
"Wait!" Hermione jumped up. "I um… I wondered… I think we should all sign something saying we won't talk about this to anyone who we think might try to interfere."
Tom raised an eyebrow at her and took the sheet she'd pulled from… somewhere. The moment he touched it and felt the magic laced through it, he had to fight the urge to sigh. "Next week," he told her. "Everyone should have the chance to think about whether they want to keep coming first, right?"
As they parted, Tom going with the Gryffindors and Luna, Hermione frowned at him. "Why didn't you want to do it this week?" she demanded.
Tom pushed the contract back into her hands. "First, because no Slytherin would ever sign something without having had a chance to think long and hard about it. Second, because the fine print doesn't act as a deterrent if no one knows it's there. Third, because your deterrent is puerile." He took in her crestfallen expression and sighed. "I approve of the intention behind it though, which is why we'll be reworking it."
Hermione perked back up, making Tom smile fondly.
As they reached the castle doors, Hermione looked at him curiously, cheeks somewhat red. "Um, how did you know that… Ginny and I are... you know… about to start?" Her voice had gone vanishingly quiet by the end, but judging by the redness on Ron and Longbottom's faces, they'd still heard her.
Tom looked away awkwardly.
"I told him," Luna said with a bounce in her step. "Actually, did you know? Muggles have found that multiple women living together tend to sync up. After four years of living in the same tower, almost all the Gryffindor girls start around the same time. Ravenclaws are a bit less in-synch, Slytherins are about the same as Gryffindors, and Hufflepuffs might as well be the same person. It's quite fascinating to watch, really."
Ginny wrinkled her nose. "You can see that?"
"Mmhm!" Luna turned back to Hermione with a small shrug. "Traditional purebloods like Daphne always have a small set of typical ritual ingredients set aside under stasis, so we really only had to worry about the other two houses. I told Padma I was inviting her and that she should save it, though it turns out that her family does that too, so I really didn't need to bother, but oh well. And the Hufflepuffs' cycles should be ending in the next two days or so."
Hermione cast a doubtful glance in Tom's direction. "Is that really something purebloods do?" she asked quietly.
Tom gave a helpless shrug. "The men don't, for obvious reasons, and it's not something the women would tell uninvolved men about, so I have to trust Luna on this."
That very much did not appear to reassure Hermione.
AN: I think the jury's still out on whether period synchronization actually happens, but I believe in it. Mostly because when I lived with a girl who got twice as many periods as is normal, I started getting mine twice a month instead of once a month as well. But even disregarding that, I think magic could very well cause it to be true.
Also, I need to go back and read Xerosis and Stand Against the Moon by Batsutousai before I write the next chapter. This isn't going to turn into Tom x Harry (because at this point, that relationship would be so weird I don't even know how it would work), but they've got some nicely evilbutstilllikeable Voldemorts who don't suffer from many Voldemort stories' failing of having him suddenly being capable of having a healthy relationship
