The difficulty with handling Tom Riddle's diary, Hermione determined, was she had to play ignorant when writing in it, but still somehow try and be herself so as to sound authentic. She wrote in it a bit every day, as one would a normal diary, trying to see what she could get.
Tom Riddle had somehow controlled Ginny through this book, Hermione determined. Tom Riddle had been opening the Chamber of Secrets through Ginny. The snakes had said Ginny seemed unaware of herself when they had seen her, which Myrtle had confirmed, making Hermione suspect that the diary could somehow possess people.
Tom Riddle wanted the Chamber of Secrets open and the monster attacking people.
Hermione wanted the Chamber of Secrets closed and the monster dead.
With their aims at odds, Hermione had to hide her motives, trying to draw information out of Tom as best she could while still seeming innocuous. She had to speak somewhat freely to seem like an average teenage girl, talking about her classes or being upset at the older years' bullying, but remain secretly alert and vigilant. She had gained some skill in such mind games from her time in Slytherin, but there was something decidedly nerve-wracking when doing it with an evil diary made by Lord Voldemort.
Hermione felt like she wasn't just playing for stakes; she was playing with her life.
Tom Riddle, however, remained perfectly polite. He asked questions about her life and classes, and he seemed genuinely interested in her responses. His original queries had been more like small talk and had been rather perfunctory, but when Hermione had mentioned her coven, Tom had grown fascinated, asking question after question about how she'd learned to construct rituals, what rituals she'd done, and what her further plans were.
He'd shocked her by confessing that he'd tried to form a coven of his own in his later years at Hogwarts. Apparently, he'd run into the difficulty of getting his closest friends to join; covens had a distinctly womanly association back then, and none of his friends wanted to do something so effeminate. He'd had to just make a generic secret society instead, but it didn't come close to the power that a coven could harness, to his constant frustration.
Tom ranted about it a good bit, going on about the wasted potential and power just because of a fear of challenging traditional gender roles, which had Hermione laughing out loud. Of all the things she would think a young Voldemort would rail against, the challenges of traditional gender roles would have never made the list.
She agreed with him, of course, though – to resist such an opportunity because of meaningless societal expectations was a huge loss. And if it really mattered, couldn't his friends have just kept it a secret?
Tom agreed, again expressing his envy of her own secret coven. He pushed her to tell him about everything she did with them, and Hermione amusedly found herself agreeing.
It was odd, to realize that one got along with the teenage form of Lord Voldemort.
Hermione was smart enough to know that Tom Riddle was trying to form a friendship with her, to get her to trust him. But to seem innocent and unaware that the diary was evil, she had to respond as if she didn't know he was trying to manipulate her into feeling a connection with him. And despite her foreknowledge, Hermione found herself somewhat glad to have the diary – besides the fact that if she had the diary, no one else could be possessed and make the monster attack, Tom was actually good to bounce ideas off of (she might as well take advantage of his intelligence, if she had to talk to him anyway), and his sarcastic and cutting comments when she ranted about the constant sneers and judgement from the older years in Slytherin comforted her and bolstered her mood. He was surprisingly empathetic on the topic.
I was judged the same, he'd told her. My parentage was unknown, and I came to Slytherin from a muggle orphanage. The cruel remarks were constant, and I had to fight to belong amongst them. Even after I found my wizarding parentage and family line, there were still doubters, and they never stopped with their comments.
I hate it, Hermione had written back. Slytherin House is supposed to be about ambition and cleverness, isn't it? What does it matter who someone's parents are? We're more than that. Why can't they see us for our resourcefulness and our power, and judge us on our own merits, not those of our family line?
Slytherin has fallen far from what it once was, I fear, Tom had responded. I think Salazar Slytherin would be disappointed to see the state of his house today.
Hermione wasn't sure if that was a genuine expression of emotion from Tom, or if he was making a subtle jibe about her (and her parentage) being in Slytherin and trying to sneak it in under her nose.
But she continued writing in the diary nonetheless.
With Tom Riddle not giving up any useful information on the monster or Chamber of Secrets, and Hermione not willing to go and explore the Chamber of Secrets alone, Hermione grew more and more frustrated.
Though there had been no more attacks, students were still required to walk around in pairs and couldn't travel alone. The lack of freedom grated on everyone, but with Hermione's friendships within other houses, it bothered her a little more; Hermione wasn't able to visit Ravenclaw on a whim, or go find Harry and Neville, or even arrange to meet her coven at a specific place and time, as half of them would have to come alone from different houses, which wasn't currently allowed.
The teachers seemed to think the best way to handle everyone being worried about the monster was to occupy them with as much schoolwork as possible. Hermione was accustomed to essays and homework, but there was a significant increase in the number of essays and length of essays assigned, to the point she was openly suspicious.
"Do you think all the teachers discussed this and planned it?" she asked one evening, working on a Transfiguration essay with Tracey, Millie, and Blaise. "Overload us with dumb essays and assignments so everyone's too busy to worry about the attacks?"
"What, collectively planned on giving us more homework?" Tracey asked. "I mean, they all say it's to help us prepare for exams…"
"Bully for exams," Hermione snapped. "For Transfiguration, I am going to need to transfigure a flowerpot into a lamp. I'm not going to need to know the tradition of turning decorations into lighting throughout history."
"It's not like we can do anything about it, even if it is just busy work," Blaise pointed out. "We can't just not do it, you know?"
Blaise had a point, but Hermione didn't like it.
Over time, her frustration mounted. Classes began to blur together. Homework was done to the bare minimum, no extra information included. Lessons felt pointless; she did the required magic and tuned the rest out. Anxiety and anger were never far from her mind, and Hermione felt more and more pent-up over the fact that the safety of students at the school had become an issue at all. What kind of Headmaster let an ancient horror that he knew about for fifty years just lurk about in a castle with children?
It was like Hermione couldn't stop thinking about it. None of the serpents she had researched could petrify people, so what was the monster that was after her classmates? Tom Riddle hadn't taken the bait yet and told her anything of consequence, despite her mentioning the attacks from time to time. Everything else seemed to pale in comparison next to the threat of a literal monster terrorizing the school.
Her thoughts continued to spiral, and her anxiety grew and grew.
Her friends tried to pull her out of her funk, with little success. Blaise's flirting fell flat. Millie's sarcasm didn't seem to reach her ears. Tracey even dragged Hermione to a Quidditch match that Hermione barely paid attention to; it was as if she couldn't sit still the entire time. The monster was still out there, still hiding in the pipes and the halls, and even if no one was controlling it now, who's to say it wouldn't get hungry and decide to act on its own?
Hermione was returning to the castle after the Quidditch game (Ravenclaw had won against Hufflepuff, she thought? Was that even who had played?) when Susan Bones came up to her, wearing her bright turquoise glasses and smiling.
"Hermione!" she said. "It's great to see you!"
Hermione managed a half-smile.
"Good to see you outside of classes, Susan," she said. "How are the glasses working out?"
Susan grinned.
"They're amazing," she told her. "I didn't realize how much of a headache I was dealing with every day until suddenly the pain was gone. And reading is so much easier, now – my marks in classes have gone up a lot!"
Despite her sour mood, Hermione smiled.
"That's wonderful," she told her honestly. "I'm so glad it worked!"
Susan skipped alongside her, cheerful.
"I really am in your debt, you know," she said. "I know you don't really know much about it, but I take my bonds very seriously."
"Cedric mentioned it," Hermione said. "Your family is very traditional, he said?"
Susan's eyes darkened.
"Well, what's left of it, at least," she muttered. "All I've got left is my aunt."
Hermione felt awkwardness descend.
"I'm so sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't know – I didn't mean to bring it up—"
Susan sighed.
"No, it's fine," she said. "You couldn't have known. But You-Know-Who killed my parents, my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, and all my cousins. My aunt and I are the only Bones he missed. I live with her, now."
Her lips were twisted into a tortured sort of frown, and Hermione felt horrible.
"I don't even really remember them," Susan admitted. "I was so young. The Death Eaters burned the house down, when they were done. This is all I even have left of my mother's."
She pulled a ring from her robes, hanging on a chain around her neck, and gave Hermione a faint smile.
"It's too big to fit me," Susan said wryly. "But at least I have something of hers to keep and remember her by."
But Hermione was staring at the ring on the necklace, swaying slightly in the air.
"Susan," she said slowly. "That was your mother's?"
Susan blinked.
"Yes," she said. "I'm sure of it."
Hermione took Susan's elbow and tugged her aside, out of the flow of traffic.
"Can I see it?" she asked, and without waiting for permission, she stepped closer and took the ring to look at more closely, pulling the chain taut around Susan's neck.
"Hey!"
The ring was thick and silver, with Celtic knotwork on the sides. The top of the ring had a flat round face, filled with black enamel.
There was a silver pentacle emblazoned on the face.
Hermione's eyes flew to Susan's, whose eyes had gone wide.
"Very traditional family, you say," Hermione murmured. She held up the ring. "Do you know what this is?"
Susan's eyes blazed in defiance. "So what if I do?"
Hermione let the ring drop, and it fell to hang down Susan's front.
"The Bones are very traditional," Hermione said quietly. Her eyes held Susan's. "Do you intend to follow in your mother's footsteps? To follow her traditions?"
The defiance in Susan's eyes immediately turned into intrigue.
"And if I do?" she said, very casually, trying to keep her interest out of her tone.
Hermione smiled, her eyes glinting.
"I might be able to help with that."