Two days had gone by before Tom Riddle finally summoned his newest recruit, Hermione Jean Granger. The two days of waiting in between led to two days of Hermione scheming against the future dark lord. Plotting how to overthrow the next Dark Lord. Perhaps that could become a hit movie- Britain's Next Dark Lord: The Uprising. With the sequel she was currently working on, Britain's Next Dark Lord: The Downfall.
Hermione covered a range of plans she could do to throw him off track from killing him to tattling on him, she was lost for the perfect answer. It was a tedious task but she was meticulous in what she came up with.
From plotting down the perfect times, adding variables to work out the element of surprise completely. She worked just about every nick in the wonderful past.
But after a week of meticulously planning out every detail- including pointless ones like 'what if I get a papercut before I commence the overthrowing of one of the strongest Wizards in the world?'.
In a moment of defeat, she decided it would be in her best interest to first climb up the current Death Eater hierarchy before she could plot against him. It would be difficult, considering her now exposed Blood Status and her gender in times where misogyny flourished so wildly. But it would help her gain the component of fear amongst Voldemort's followers. Perhaps it may even earn her some accomplices.
However on the brighter wide, she had plenty of time to commence the mission, which also meant she could study the flow of the timeline in the meantime. Hopefully she would gain a proper understanding of the linear progress of time.
So on a Saturday afternoon as boring as any other, when Rosier seeked her out to inform her of the meeting Hermione wasted no time in slipping into character. She had casually been lounging in the Common Room, leaning against one of the single chairs with her feet draped over one of the chess tables.
When Rosier approached her, he cleared his throat so aggressively, Hermione was almost worried for him. "Do you need water?" Hermione asked not bothering to look up at the man, perhaps sounding faker than she felt. It was hard to tell.
Rosier rolled his eyes and sneered, "Tom told us to be at the Room of Requirement at 5." He seemed annoyed. He turned back almost instantly, not giving Hermione a chance to say anything.
Hermione found she quite liked the expression she saw on Rosier's face. The annoyance was quite satisfactory. Perhaps pissing on a Death Eaters parade would become her favourite past time activity.
It's about 4:30 right now... she calculated it to fit her schedule- which was shokingly free for a saturday afternoon. It meant she had about half an hour before she would actually have anything to do.
Theodore and Abraxas were no where to be found, having snuck off somewhere after lunch ended.
Besides the walk to the Room of Requirements would take her approximately ten minutes from the dungeons.
Grumbling to herself, Hermione grabbed her satchel and jumped off the chair, deciding to instead wait in the Room of Requirement while reading an old Magical Arts book. One which was unavailable in Hermione's time due to its dark contents. Of course Hermione wasn't inherently interested in Dark Magic, but it was an interesting read.
She strolled up the stairs quite leisurely, biding her time. She clutched her satchels strap tightly in her hands. Walking past the boys' lavatory, she stalled momentarily when she thought she heard a familiar voice.
After a beat of silence, she shook her head to clear her thoughts and made her way up to the Room of Requirement. It's a closed off lavatory anyway.
Following the completion of the three rounds around the empty wall, Hermione waited patiently for the door to materialise her way into the Come and Go Room. She pushed the door open immediately as it did, trudging into the dimly lit room happily as she noted the emptiness.
It was a big room, with a dingy atmosphere. It resembled the dungeons an awful lot. These Slytherins really enjoy making everything homely, she mused. There were long stone benches on either side, followed by a slightly raised podium at the very far front of the room with a throne like red chair being the only touch of colour within the room. It was magificent, really. Sleek in a modernistic approach as well. Behind that was a large fireplace, with green flames. But the furnishing was a bare minimum, somehow looking even emptier than it had when they used the Room of Requirement for Dumbledore's Army.
Hermione suppressed the memories, instead strutting over to the stone bench to take a seat and proceed with her reading. I do not need the memories of the future to hold me back. She pulled her book out of her satchel and set the bag down onto the ground.
"You arrived awfully early," Tom lamented. Hermione nearly shrieked in surprise, looking back to catch sight of the Slytherin heir who leaned against the wall beside the door, hands crossed casually. Goosebumps erupted across her hands. Tom studied her stance with amusement in his eyes.
Hermione awkwardly raised an arm to put a hand on her chest, in an attempt to calm her nerves. "Yeah, I had nothing to do so I thought I would wait here." Tom glanced at the book she held, "it's an interesting read." Hermione shrugged, looking everywhere but at the handsome boys face.
Tom nodded in agreement, he did not seem interested in extending the conversation beyond what was necessary. Hermione found she quite liked it when he kept quiet. His personality was half decent when he didn't show it at all.
Tom walked by her to the chair up on the podium in the room, taking a stand beside it. Hermione withheld the urge to scoff. Stupid Tom Riddle and his stupid powerplaying.
But Tom didn't turn to face Hermione, instead turning his back to her and watching the flames. Hermione set her book down awkwardly, feeling scrutinised despite Tom's obvious disinterest.
Ten minutes passed in heavy silence before other Slytherins began filing into the room, one by one.
They walked in with stoic faces and stood in front of the long stone benches, waiting for permission before taking a seat. Feeling awkward being the only person seated, Hermione stood up too.
A few more minutes passed, as an increasing number of Slytherins arrived. Hermione noted how they were only Slytherins. She had always assumed Ravenclaws would bode well with the Slytherin crowd. Some would specially work well with the Death Eater crowd.
Hermione's eyes raked through lines of people, trying to find how many she recognised.
Avery, Dolohov, Crabbe, Goyle, Carrow and Rosier. As well as someone who looked a lot like Phineas Black. Except these seven, there were six other Death Eaters (Knights of Walpurgis') present. Six others Hermione did not recognise even in the slightest.
Hermione breathed out in relief when she noticed Abraxas and Theodore were not present, and everyone stopped looking at the door waiting for late arrivals.
She felt guilty for it suspecting them, but she could not help but be filled with relief.
Does this make me one of the original, founding Death Eaters? The original 14 instead of the original 13.
"Welcome, my Knights." Tom greeted, a charming grin on his face. His expression shifted from bored and pissed to charming faster than Hermione thought possible.
"Greetings, My Lord." They chanted, their synced greeting felt quite... creepy. To Hermione. She just continued looking around in confusion, feeling her neck heat up.
It almost felt as if she was part of a preschooler crowd, one that sang Good morning and Good evening to the teachers. But being the only one excluded she wished she had some clue about it so she could join in and possibly make it less awkward.
"Today, I bring a personal recruit with me. Hermione, come forward." Tom beckoned, his expression shifting from friendly to stoic. Hermione couldn't tell what he was thinking. She wiped the anxiety off her face, instead replacing it with a cool mask of confidence. She wanted to seem more nonchalant. She needed to seem more nonchalant and confident.
Walking over to Tom with ease, she couldn't help but register the uneast feeling the having eyes set on her back and attempting to listen into the whispering behind her back. She stopped a few steps in front of Tom for good measure and instead turned to face forward, jaw clenched and head held high. She stared down at the crowd from her place upon the podium. I need to at least exude confidence to be taken seriously.
"This is Hermione Granger, I assume you all know her?" He did not sound like he cared to hear an answer at all. Still, someone Hermione didn't recognise raised a hand, she fixated her sight on him. A short scrawny boy with sandy blond hair. "What is it Corvus?" Tom sounded peeved. Ah, a Lestrange. I wonder if I could somehow castrate him without getting caught?
"M-my Lord pardon my insolence but Hermione Granger is a mudblood." He somehow both spat the last word and also cowered in fear for its response. Hermione suppressed a snort, settling for half an amused smile instead. That is correct. Hermione Granger is a mudblood.
"Who told you this?" Tom asked, both amusement and annoyance hinted in his voice. Hermione watched the crowd as Alice Carrow attempted to hide behind taller Knights.
"Alice Carrow, My Lord." Lestrange tipped his head down in a bow. Tom nodded in dismissal.
"Is that so, Alice?" The pathetic Carrow whimpered in response. Hermione felt as if in her time here she had begun growing a personal agenda against Carrow. Aside from her obviously horrible personality.
"My Lord she told me she was during her first night here!" She cried. Bad move lying to a Legilimens, Hermione tutted. She almost pitied the girl. But even Hermione was not above getting annoyed at a hissy bitchfit.
"Hermione, do you want to answer that?" Tom seemed to give Hermione the illusion of a choice with the way he phrased the question, but his tone made it anything but.
Hermione took a deep breath in, stared Alice Carrow in the eyes and spat, "As I have told you before I'm a half-blood."
"And what did our dear Alice say in response last time?" Tom eyed Carrow with amusement.
Hermione's mouth filled with distaste as she looked at the girl, "she exclaimed disgust. 'A half-blood in the Noble House of Slytherin', she told me."
"What did you tell her then, Hermione." Tom seemed to like calling out Hermione's name an awful lot.
Hermione looked Alice Carrow in the eye and sighed. "Listen you daft bitch we both know well that Slytherin takes half-blood students so if you're going to cry about it, do it somewhere I won't have to see your disgusting face," Hermione parroted, gleeful at the tears that seemed to escape Alice Carrow.
She felt Tom Riddle approaching her, his footsteps were so light they were almost undetectable. If not for the unnerving silence apart from Carrow's sporadic sobbing. Tom stood right behind her, not close enough to be touching but close enough for Hermione to feel the ghost of his breath on her skin. "Wonderful Hermione," he purred as he watched her. "Now take that anger and punish her." Hermione stalled for a minute, tightening her grip on her wand until her knuckles whitened. "Do it Hermione, it will please your Lord immensely." Hermione swallowed down her fear.
For Harry, for Draco and for Ron.
"No! My Lord I beg you, it was a mistake." Carrow fell onto her knees and cried.
Tom sneered at the girl, "tell me Alice, what right do you have to question me?" He demanded. Carrow crying incessantly. He encouraged Hermione to go ahead with the curse.
Hermione took in a sharp breath.
"Crucio," she cast with a whisper, pointing her wand at the girl who looked so small from Hermione's place on top of the stadium. Hermione felt the power coursing through her veins at the near addictive curse. Tom's magic lapped hers as if to encourage her further. It seemed to be whispering more, more, more. Carrow broke into screams, falling over and writhing on the floor- blubbering for forgiveness. Hermione would have felt guiltier but knowing Carrow, she didn't feel an ounce of remose. Her descendants had tortured countless first year children. Not to mention she was a blood supremacist piece of shit.
Perhaps it was wrong but the twisted sense of satisfaction within her did not help her conscience whatsoever.
"That is a good girl," Tom praised, somehow feeling closer in distance now than he did mere moments ago. Hermione wondered if anyone could see them and if this was an appropriate thing to be doing. Probably not? Who would want to be snuggly with Voldemort anyway, she shuddered at the thought.
"Now let go Hermione." Tom instructed, his voice inexplicably gentle as he pulled her wand arm down.
Hermione lifted the curse, drawing her wand back as instructed. She watched as some Knights looked back and forth between Tom and Carrow. squirming. They stood in place, faces displaying obvious discomfort until Tom gave them the go ahead to treating Carrow who laid on the floor with her eyes closed sobbing.
Lestrange ran out from his place within the ranks and picked her up, hauling her to the corner as he begged her to keep quiet.
"Does anyone else have any useless contributions regarding Hermione's initiation?" Tom's expression was daring. Honestly Hermione was surprised anyone spoke up at all. You would assume they knew better than to question their superiors judgement.
The Knights remained quiet, as should have been from the very beginning.
Hermione watched the silent crowd, trying to discern what the power rankings were amongst these Knights. She began digging her thumbnail into the palm of her hand unsure whether she should walk back or not as time ticked on. She was scared. This was too big of a gamble.
"Hermione, return to your place," Tom whispered from beside her.
"Yes, My Lord." She mumbled quietly, awkwardly scurrying back in place between Crabbe and Phineas Black's lookalike.
"Sit down then, all of you." Tom ordered. His voice emanated confidence and power. Hermione felt the way the nature of his magic shifted, overpowering hers as well as everyone else in this room's, she was sure.
After a short moment of footsteps echoing the room, it came to a abrupt stop with all the knights taking their seats. Tom leaned against the side of his grand chair, "Alphard, where are the new recruits?" He shifted his gaze to Hermione's direction. He didn't look interested exactly. Neither did he really look angry, but Hermione felt that this Alphard's answer may possibly piss him off.
The Phineas Black lookalike beside Hermione began fiddling with his fingers, "My Lord… Violetta Bulstrode will be attending with her twin Jack Bulstrode starting next week." He answered sheepishly, avoiding direct eye contact with Tom. So some people know about his legilimency powers...
Tom nodded, face passive, "very well. What progress do you have on Nott and Malfoy? You should know they play a crucial role to my cause, yet you seem to delay their initiation." Hermione tensed slightly, how would Abraxas and Theodore help him with domination of muggle society- ah. Their familial connections.
"I-I apologise My Lord those two are adamant in not wanting to join such a cause..." He trailed off, flinching.
Tom's eyes flashed red, "tell me Alphard did I ask you for your excuses? Whether you lie or imperio them I do not care." He spat. Alphard nodded feverishly.
Tom sneered, looking down on them with disgust.
"Antonin and Hermione," Tom turned back to face the fireplace, "stay. Everyone else leave." He looked annoyed. Hermione couldn't help but appreciate his tall build, his confidence and his raw power.
Hermione swallowed her fear and remained rooted to the ground, so did Dolohov. Who she now knew to be Antonin Dolohov. The wonderful man she had encountered a number of times in the recent (or perhaps far later?) years. I want to castrate all of them or maybe mutilate some of them? Hermione sighed dreamily.
"Come here, both of you." Tom beckoned them forward, finally taking a seat on the throne. Hermione swallowed thickly, walking to the bottom of the podium before coming to a stop, as did Dolohov. "Antonin here has been in charge of our news regarding Grindelwald," Tom addressed her, not bothering to look at the man beside her. Hermione nodded curtly.
"Tell me Antonin, what news do you bring me today?"
Dolohov shifted his weight from left to right leg. "My Lord... Grindelwald's forces have come to a slow stop. It seems they plan on recruiting before making a move again." He responded, quite diligently. "And also, Druella Rosier has expressed an interest in meeting you personally. She says she wants to know who she is being an informant for."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly, breath hitching. She looked up at Tom in alarm. "My Lord if I may-" she interrupted. Tom gestured for her to continue. "Dolohov, have you told Druella of our Lord's identity?" She asked with urgency.
Dolohov shook his head no, "she doesn't know his name but I told her it's the heir of Slytherin..." he mumbled the last bit. Tom listened without commenting.
"Dolohov, you are dismissed." He sighed, wondering what the witch would say now.
As soon as the door shut behind Dolohov, Hermione looked at Tom, "Druella Rosier is one of Grindelwald's most diligent followers," Hermione explained. "There is simply no way she would sell out any information on him."
"So you assume Druella has been feeding us false information to throw us off?" He considered the plausibility of the situation before shrugging. "I understand. What about my identity though?" He did not look like he really cared for Hermione's opinion, but he was interested to see what she had to say instead.
"I think the Dark Lord wants to find out who you are- it's obvious Druella is feeding you information he provided the go ahead for." Did Tom Riddle ever cross paths with Grindelwald in the past? No where in history was that mentioned.
"And?"
"It could mean he either wants to eliminate you as a potential threat or he wants to propose an alliance." Hermione reasoned slowly. Perhaps this is what she needed. A change in the timeline, one fuckup after the other.
Tom threw his head back in laughter, the rich sound echoing through the vast room. "I would actually quite love to see how this progresses. Oversee Antonin's work for now, I want you to keep an eye on everything he does when retrieving information." Hermione nodded, "and I expect to see you tomorrow at 10pm for our training session."
Hermione gulped. She had assumed Tom forgot about that. She nodded once again, not knowing what would be appropriate to say. Tom stared at her, relishing in her sudden show of discomfort. "Also, it would be best to let you know but our meetings usually begin at 12am. Today was a bit of a special event," he sent a tired charming grin her way. "You may leave." Hermione turned around graciously, before breaking into a power walk for the door. She made sure to grab her satchel on her way out.
Just as she was about to walk through the door, she turned to look at Tom. "It may not be my place but… I think even if Grindelwald began marking you, you would win. Because you're stronger than him."
"Save some flattery for practice, Granger." He jested, winking at her. Hermione reddened and slammed the door shut behind her as she scurried away. Stupid Tom Riddle. Stupid Tom Riddle and his stupid half-assed flattery and his stupid half-assed charm.
Even as she was stomping down the stairs, she could feel the eyes on her. It might have been harder to detect if they weren't looking at her with such prominently hostile intention. Now to figure out if Tom's the one that set eyes on me? She quickly removed that possibility, showing such obviously hostile intent is a rookie mistake.
Hermione stopped walking, reaching for her holster. "Homenum Revelio," Hermione cast loudly as she pulled out her wand. Feeling the airy pull towards an abandoned classroom, Hermione followed the spell. Purposely shortening her stride hoping to unnerve whoever was there. She slammed the door open with a flick of her wand and held it up. "Don't piss me off," she snarled at the seemingly empty room.
From a few feet away, Alphard Black materialised, his hands held up in a gesture of defeat. "I just wanted to ask you something," the man reasoned, a crooked grin set on his face. He tried inching towards to Hermione.
"Don't you fucking dare." Hermione growled. "You can ask me what you want from there." Alphard raised his eyebrows and backed away in mock defeat.
"Granger, Tom just asked me to look over your behavior but I'm not sure how I feel about you treating me this way," he teased. He didn't look the slightest bit bothered by their current situation, instead looking as if he enjoyed riling Hermione up.
"Is that so? Come along with me now then." She jut her wand closer to him in order to prompt him out the door. His smile wavered. "I will ask Tom what he requires myself."
Alphard laughed awkwardly, "no reason to bother our-"
"Cut the crap and move it." Hermione snapped. She flocked him out the door, digging her wand deep into his back. While they moved back upstairs towards the Room of Requirements once again, Abraxas and Theodore's particularly chipper voices cut into the silence. Hermione's eyes widened a fraction as a groan passed her lips. Alphard grinned widely.
"Let's say hi to your friends?" Asked the bastard.
"Obliviate." Hermione cast without any emotion or difficulty. Seriously, the man was painfully daft. She'd undo the memory charm on him, as she did her parents, next time she met Tom. So she may question him in private. But for now, she had better things to do.
Hermione walked towards the direction Theodore and Abraxas' voices sounded from, a toothy grin set on her face. "Hey," she greeted her friends.