Tom kept his eyes trained on Hermione as she looked down at the Knights, seemingly processing her words. "I assume it was a ploy from the start. As Dolohov said, we thought Druella was turning over to our side because of our link with the Rosier family- but it seems we have instead stepped into a trap set by Grindelwald." Hermione had to be careful with her words, she could not afford to offend the Dark Lord. Not after her astounding lack of progress.
The eyes that were previously trained on Hermione shifted, glaring daggers at Rosier. Hermione remained quiet, not wanting to give her input unless asked for. "Dolohov, Hermione and Rosier. The three of you stay, the rest leave." Tom broke into the silence, his voice icy. A few Knights faltered, but filed out the door obediently nonetheless.
Hermione turned to Tom, fiddling with her fingers. She had made quite the deduction. But even in her time, Druella Black neé Rosier was one of Grindelwald's greatest followers. The Bellatrix to Voldemort. A devout follower.
"Rosier, have you personally heard from Druella in any instance?" Tom questioned, his gaze icy. The three Knights stood side by side as Tom finally took a seat, awaiting an answer. He leaned back and looked at the three with flashing red eyes. In the dark, they almost glowed. A wonderful sight had they not been this fearsome.
After a beat of silent contemplation, Rosier nodded, "occasionally we have exchanged letters. She does not come to the family home any longer." He tipped his head, ears tinged red.
Tom ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it farther back and making it stick out even worse. "Dolohov, Rosier, tell me every personal detail you have shared with Druella. I do not plan on submitting to anyone else." He sneered. Hermione remained quiet.
"My Lord, officially we have yet to disclose any intimate information about us Knights." Dolohov chipped in. Tom pursed his lips.
"I will decide which information is too intimate, put all the copies of letters exchanged in my room." Tom dismissed him with a wave. Rosier looked pained. "You may do the same." Tom told Rosier. He seems pissed, but I guess he feels benevolent, Hermione thought.
"M-My Lord," Rosier's voice cracked, "I did not copy the letters I sent out." He did not dare to raise his eyes, staring at his own feet instead. The door shut behind Dolohov, leaving Hermione with the furious Dark Lord and his soon to-be-punished follower. Hermione kept a firm eye on Tom, whose eyes seemed to stop flashing red and were instead a hynotising solid red. Hermione was tempted to stare on but quickly averted her eyes.
Tom got off his seat, making Hermione instinctively take a step sideways to put more space between herself and Rosier. He came to a stop in front of Rosier, inches apart from him and raised his hand, tracing the side of Rosier's face with the back of his hand, "whose permission did you act on?" Tom whispered. In his other hand, he had his wand gripped tightly.
"I-I apologise my Lord, it will not happen again." Rosier was trembling with fear, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool temperature in the room.
"Fall back, Rosier." Tom instructed, rolling up his sleeves. "Hermione, come stand next to me." He beckoned her closer with a wave of his hand, and Hermione followed numbly.
Rosier stepped down and walked to the middle of the room, quivering even more visibly now. "I was to train you, was I not?" Tom asked, though Hermione felt the question was more rhetoric than anything. Hermione nodded nonetheless, unable to formulate words in front of the angry Dark Lord. "This will be your first lesson then. I understand you have performed the cruciatus before?"
Hermione nodded, swallowing, "yes, My Lord." Tom placed an arm on her shoulder, raising his wand arm.
"But can you really heighten the effect of the curse?" Hermione pursed her lips in consideration, before shaking her head no. "You need to mean it. The curse will not inflict much damage unless it comes from a meaningful place. Stem such curses from places of anger." He pointed his wand at Rosier's chest, making a slashing movement, "crucio." The words left Tom's lips easily and Hermione watched in twisted satisfaction as Rosier fell to his knees and then fell over, howling and thrashing about as the pain took over him. Hermione's stomach lurched as she thought of Bellatrix. With a sideways glance, she could see Tom's eyes return to their natural colour. Several seconds passed before the Dark Lord dropped his wand. "The anger I stemmed it from is his disobedience and how inconvenient it would be for me to kill him right now." He told her, loudly enough for Rosier to start whimpering from the ground.
Rosier was a mess. His face was wet with a combination of snot, saliva and tears. Having rubbed his wet face against the ground it was caked with dirt. His limbs were a mangled mess, not quite cut apart but bruised and sticking out in various directions. This Rosier, Evan Rosier, would die in the first wizarding war. But his ancestor would remain loyal to the bastard standing beside her, and he was quite the pain. Hermione raised her wand and made a slashing motion through the air, "crucio!" She yelled, much louder than Tom's incantation. Hermione thought, he hurt Mad-eye... which was the only personal vendetta she could have against the man.
It felt like hours had passed and what was at first a jumbled mess of screams now sounded melodious to Hermione's ears. She gripped her wand tighter as raw power seemed to course through her veins, the feeling was familiar to what she felt when she punished Alice Carrow. Intoxicating. "That is enough, Hermione." Tom whispered by her side. Hermione inatantly dropped her arm, surprised at her own comfort. Rosier continued howling in pain, crying and begging for Tom's forgiveness. "Leave, Rosier." He instructed, allowing the man time to gather himself before he rolled off the ground from his pitiful lump.
Rosier swaggered out the door, sniffling. In his wake he left behind Hermione Granger with the infamously angry Dark Lord. "My Lord," Hermione tipped her head, unsure if she had displeased him. Tom sighed.
"I said you could call me by my name when we were alone." He reminded her. Hermione was slightly taken aback. She nodded, feeling a bit dumbfounded. Sure he had formed an understanding with her and agreed to not degrade her completely, but she had hardly expected him to keep his word. He was not notorious for his promises after all. "Do you know what exactly Grindelwald may plan?" He heaved a sigh.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Tom, I genuinely believe he will not let slip word of the Knights."
"It may be a fight for dominance, if we do not comply it is unlikely he will keep our secret." His words rang true. Unless they offered something, he had no obligation to them.
"Tom... if I may," she began. Tom waved at her to continue, "I believe we should comply." He opened his mouth to shut her idea down but Hermione beat him to it, "we could play his own game. He set Druella up to falsely comply with us. We could do the same. Either way, Rosier will make it seem more real by continuing to share small tidbits of information. We just have to filter what goes through." She spoke all in one breath.
Tom considered this for a moment before nodding, "you will manage all the letters that come and leave but Dolohov and Rosier will continue to write them." He instructed, running his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time. Hermione nodded, barely masking her pleasure at already being assigned an important task. "And Hermione," Tom turned away from her, "start scheduling the Knights' meeting twice a week, I will hand more detailed assignments then. Schedule training for yourself three days a week." Hermione shuffled awkwardly.
"Shall I pick the dates myself?" Hermione asked nervously.
"Yes, do it as you see best. But the meetings will only happen at 12am unless there are special circumstances." He was staring intensely into the flames. Hermione watched the glow it cast onto his face and though it looked unnerving, it was mesmerising.
"Yes, My Lord." Hermione finally spoke.
"You may leave." Tom's voice was softer, but he never spoke unless it was with absolute finality. Hermione did not probe the distressed man further and turned back, wanting to get to the dungeon and be in the company of her friends instead.
Hermione had no idea how much time had passed during the Knights' meeting, but she was certain the boys would not go to bed before she came back. After all, she had left during their small confrontation with Carrow and had yet to return. As an added plus, Carrow seemed quite pale during the Knights meeting so Hermione was certain they had ripped her a new one.
It took Hermione hours of guilty dwelling to realise they had not been bad. She had whispered her apologies to Draco, whose family she had once more shown prejudice to. Hermione often displayed her anger too, in fact she were better at directing it than concealing it, but it did not have to mean they were inherently bad people. With a whisper, the portrait swung open leaving her to climb through the hole.
Hermione made her way inside, scanning the area as she walked, searching for her friends. Almosy immediately, Abraxas' pale blond hair caught her eyes. His head seemed to have been resting against Theodore's, as the pair sat quietly. Hermione tip-toed over to them, assuming they were asleep and not wanting to disturb them.
The pair were sound asleep, looking peaceful. But the both of their eyes were rimmed red, as if they had spent hours crying. Hermione brushed a few strands of stray hair off the side of Theodore's face, watching the pair with a sense of comfort. His eyes instantly shot open, he opened his mouth so as to greet her. Hermione raised a hand to her mouth in a shushing motion, pointing to Abraxas with wide eyes. Theodore mouthed an 'ok' before gently pushing Abraxas' head off his own, which lolled to the other side but did not wake up the blond boy. "Do you want to take a walk?" Theodore whispered. Hermione looked between Abraxas and Theodore but nodded ultimately.
The pair made their way out of the portrait hole, walking in comfortable silence. "Are you sure this is alright? What if we got caught." Hermione mumbled.
"All the more time I get to spend with you, in detention." Theodore winked, cocking finger guns at Hermione. "Hermione, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Theodore sighed after a moment of silence.
Hermione turned her head to the side, her eyebrows knit together, "Of course I do. You can also always do the same." She told him. Theodore nodded, not seeming quite content with her answer.
"There's this... sadness to you at times. I just want you to know that no matter what you have been through, we can talk about it. It might help." He shrugged, "of course, that also means you can take as long as you need." He turned away from her, though a small smile had formed on his face.
Hermione interlinked her arm with his. "They've arranged marriages for both of us. As soon as we leave Hogwarts." Theodore blurted out calmly.
Hermione gaped at him, "this soon?"
He shrugged, looking forward as they walked on aimlessly. Hermione felt a pang of pity for the charismatic boy. They kept walking, heading up the stairs. Hermione assumed Theodore would like to sit in the Astronomy Tower for a while.
As the pair walked in silence, Hermione leaned into Theodore's side. "I love him, Hermione." He began, "but I'm not gay." He seemed to clarify. Hermione felt a little lost. "I like girls too. I've read about it- bisexuality. It-"
"You and Abraxas?" She asked, a bit surprised. Sure, sometimes it had seemed a bit tense between them but she never would of guessed it. She wracked her brain, trying to remember how Abraxas Malfoy and Theodore Nott the first had lived their lives in the past.
Theodore walked off the staircase, pulling Hermione into a small alcove with him. They sat on the ground, staring down aimlessly. Hermione rested her head on Theodore's shoulder, not knowing what to say. "I know it's wrong-" Theodore began but Hermione cut him off instantaneously.
"There is nothing wrong with liking people of the same gender, Theodore. I am sure in time most people in the wizarding society will come to realise that too." She spoke firmly, because she knew they would. Theodore did not seem very reassured though. "If you two are together, I will always root for you."
Theodore laughed humourlessly, "when we are to be married? It doesn't matter anymore." His voice was strained, but he did not drop his smile. Hermione felt a pang of pity for her friend.
"But does Abraxas feel the same way for you?" Theodore gave her a small nod. "Then we'll find a way. The three of us. I will support you no matter what." She offered him a smile.
She turned her body and hugged him. Seconds passed before Theodore broke down and hugged her back. He held onto her smaller frame tightly, sobbing dryly.
"I will be betrothed during the Christmas holidays." He cried. Hermione stiffened. He had mentioned that his marriage was fixed but she had assumed it was to be set later on.
"This soon?" Hermione whispered, pulling back to look at him.
"Th-they found out." He wiped at his tears desperately. Hermione held his shoulders and tugged him down, kissing his forehead. She leaned her own forehead against his.
"We will change that, Theodore. We can change that." She whispered. Theodore nodded. Hermione wiped his tears delicately, feeling a wave of affection for her friend.
"I sometimes miss my previous life." Hermione told him, trying to get him to think about something else.
"Eh? You miss being on the run from the Dark Lord?" Theodore asked, scrunching his face. Hermione laughed, slapping his shoulder.
"Of course not, I miss when I was a child and me and my friends could just... create happy memories like normal kids."
Theodore seemed to think about her words for a second, before nodding, "I understand, Hermione. I hope we can create enough happy memories to erase the sadder ones." He grinned at her. He had never once put down her sadness, even during their study breaks. He did not tell her it would be possible to erase everything.
Hermione laughed, "you know, when I was in my first year I got attacked by a troll."
He gaped at her, "no way! How does that even happen?" He laughed incredulously.
"My best friends saved me back then. One of them, Harry, shoved a wand up the trolls nose and hit it with its own club." It was quite the scene, disgusting but also her sweetest childhood memory.
Theodore made an eugh noise. "As nasty as that is, Harry was a hero." He jested.
Hermione laughed, nodding. The pair continued to share stories in the small alcove til late in the night.
•••
Hermione loaded her plate with sandwiches, feeling particularly peckish. All the whilst Abraxas and Theodore were quibbling amongst themselves opposite to her. When parting ways last night Theodore had requested they pretend like it did not happen, specially in front of Abraxas. And Hermione had full intention of staying true to her words and keeping shut about their discussion. "Do you two ever stop?" Hermione scoffed, biting into her sandwich.
Abraxas huffed indigantly as Theodore yelled, "there are perfectly good eggs there! So why does he need to eat the ones off my plate!" Theodore scowled. Hermione rolled her eyes, biting into her second sandwich. "He didn't even let me sleep last night." Theodore grumbled, stabbing his egg with a fork.
"Well you pair shouldn' 'ave went out withou' me!" Abraxas crossed his arms petulantly. Theodore threw a glare at him, stifling a yawn.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "we were walking."
"I told this manchild as much." Theodore mumbled, yawning once more.
Abraxas shoved two fingers inside his open mouth swiftly, "tickle tickle," he cooed.
Theodore coughed, pulling Abraxas' hand out and massaging his neck, "tickle tickle? You damn near shoved my tonsils out my ass!" Theodore complained, snatching his pumpkin juice off the table and downing it in one go. Abraxas sniggered.
Hermione covered her mouth to muffle her own laughter, earning her a glare from Theodore. She raised her hands in mock surrender, turning back to her work whilst the pair continued bickering. Hermione marked down the dates on her notebook.
Sundays and Thursdays: Knights of Walpurgis.
Mondays, Fridays and Tuesdays: Practice with Tom.
She stuck another sandwich into her mouth before shoving her diary in her satchel, waving goodbye to her friends who were paying her little attention. She had to find Tom to let him know of the schedules. And more importantly, she had to suggest the magical coin idea (the same she had created for Dumbledore's Army) before Tom could think of the Dark Mark. She did not know when the Dark Mark had originated, but it never hurt to be careful.