A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter! As always, thank you for the lovely reviews, favorites, watches, author alerts and for all the views you've given! I have over 18,000 as of the other day! I am truly flattered and I hate not being able to post as often as I'd like, but to make up for my absence and as a simple gift for the Holidays, here is an extended chapter rather than breaking them into two. It has taken me three sleepless nights to complete, but I have really enjoyed writing it, so I hope you all enjoy reading it. I am going to try and squeeze in another chapter before my holiday vacation is over, but for now, I hope you guys like it!
P.S.
I will be adding this story on a number of other sites. It is now live on , though the updates are slower due to validations and backlogging. DeviantArt may be a sight I'll look into posting on as well. I already have an account under the same name (ViperStripes), so feel free to watch me on there for any updates on the story, graphics I make and post in correlation to the story, or just little quips I plan on doing in the future. Thanks again for the awesome support!
-VS
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the characters, locations, or cleverness. It all belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Studios.
Hermione stood, frozen stiff and scared. How could have she forgotten? How is it possible that she neglected remembering the something as simple as the year? How could she have ever prepared for this—even if she knew at the start?
She closed her eyes tightly trying to shut herself out of every possible sensation she was feeling. She felt herself swaying slightly back and forth, her body being the only thing holding her and keeping her balanced. She listened, unmoving, lips pressed into a hard line. She felt every slight movement as her senses heightened. She felt the friction of scales on cloth as Nyoka squirmed about inside her pocket. She felt the cool air settling on her hot cheeks as the drafty tower swayed with give from its height. She felt the sun pouring in upon her lower half, warming her. She tasted bitterness as she held her mouth shut for too long. She then listened.
She cannot recall how long she stood, but everything crashed upon her as she thought she heard what sounded like a deep menacing hiss far off in the distance. Hermione's mouth opened slightly, a slight, quiet hiss escaped her dry lips.
"Miss Hermione?" Nyoka hissed. Hermione snapped from her trance and looked down at her coat's side pocket at the small serpent peeking out.
"What?" Hermione couldn't even recall what she had been formerly doing.
"You're going to be late." Nyoka flickered simply. She hadn't heard a thing.
"Right. Hogsmeade." Hermione said, shaking her head.
Hermione adjusted her scarf and left the Ravenclaw tower. She let her body carry her throughout the halls and changing staircases as she pondered her own thoughts and tried to rationalize what to do next. Her pondering continued until a voice pulled her back to reality.
"Hermione, over here!" The voice of Abraxas echoed through the foyer. Near the large doors, she saw a group of students milling about. Hadrian Black stood talking to a group of girls—one whom he had slung his arm over lazily as she bounced up and down giddily, a dark-headed Ravenclaw boy with glasses stood off to the side, and the Slytherin boys whom she remembered as the other members of Walpurgis tried to get the attention of a few of the girls—save for Abraxas who smiled brightly at Hermione as she approached.
"We've been waiting for hours! What kept you?" Abraxas exaggerated.
"Oh, the usual. Studying." Hermione shrugged.
"You Ravenclaws need to learn how to live a little. I highly doubt any work you conjure up would be anything short of average—no matter the amount of time put in," Abraxas complimented her. She blushed slightly at his unexpected words.
"I would like to hope so." She smiled. Abraxas smiled broadly at her response and turned back to the rest of the group.
"Is everyone here? Wait—where is Tom? Is he really late again? Oh, sod it. He'll catch up." Abraxas shook his head and opened the front door, gesturing for Hermione to go through first. She did and the rest of the students filed suit.
The air was cool and crisp, making Hermione grateful for her thick hair that covered her ears and kept them warm. She rubbed her hands together and whispered a warming charm. Abraxas walked slightly ahead of her, leading the pack. Hadrian talked lowly in the back, but the volume of the girls' chorus of shrill laughter split the air every few moments. Hermione looked behind her at the other students. The Ravenclaw boy shuffled his feet and kicked the leaves as he walked while the other boys looked disgruntled at their failed attempts of wooing Hadrian's followers.
They soon reached the arched gates that greeted everyone into the town of Hogsmeade. The streets were busy with marketers selling various goods. Two small children played with a dog in the background, a robust woman carried a large basket of bread quickly from the bakery, a sketchy thin man in a dirty bowler hat stood near the alleyway, and a young girl licked on a sugar quill as she strolled along. The town hadn't changed much at all.
"Welcome to Hogsmeade, Miss Sivad." Abraxas smiled and held up his crooked elbow. She looked around for a moment and laughed before slipping her hand inside and allowing him to guide her. Is this what it is like to actually be courted during this era? Hermione found herself being quite jealous over the formalities she was being shown now in comparison to the future. Her first date consisted of a lot of hands-in-pockets, belching, and awkward contact—though none of it being manufactured from Hermione's side. But then again, this wasn't a date—was it?
The wind blew harsh atop the hill where the town rested, nipping at the knee caps and noses of the students. The congregation shuffled quickly toward the Three Broomsticks. They reached the entrance after a minute or two of walking deeper into the town. Abraxas released Hermione's arm and held the door open for her and the rest of the group. Through a lot of shoving and toe-stepping they all crowded inside.
Hermione took a deep breath. The inn smelled of butterbeer, warmed ale, apple spice, and pumpkin bread. She closed her eyes and smiled. The inn still smelled as it did in her time.
"Shall we?" Abraxas spoke up, breaking up her dream-filled state. He led the group to a large, round, wooden table furthest in the back corner. Abraxas pulled the chair out for Hermione who inclined her head in turn and sat down. Abraxas sat on her left, the boy with glasses sat to her right, and the rest of the group followed suit. When Hadrian seated himself, two of the girls dove, stumbling at the last seats available that sat on either side of him. The three remaining girls who had been following him huffed through gritted teeth in defeat and sat at an empty table a section away.
Hermione felt oddly homey amongst the students. Though they had given her trouble at the start, it was clear that Abraxas' approval was weighing in over Hadrian's perverse nature. But even with this new found place among the Slytherins, she knew deep down that Tom Riddle had yet to make his final decision on her presence among the group. He had yet to even show his face throughout the halls today. She had no doubt of what he was doing, but it was the progress he was making that worried her.
She had been enjoying herself so much that she had forgotten his absence. It was a breath of fresh air no doubt, but if she couldn't reach him through his own people, how could she have a chance at closing in on him? Then again, she felt glad that she could save these events for another day.
Hermione felt Nyoka wriggle in her pocket impatiently. She reached under the table and slightly tapped the pocket to cease Nyoka's sporadic movements—worrying someone would point it out. But, the students' attention was elsewhere.
A sandy-blonde haired woman twirled her way to their table with a flat wooden tray balanced precariously on her fingertips. "Hello Dearies, what can I get you all today?" Her Scottish voice rang out and her springy curls bounced as she halted to a stop. Her hand held a notepad and Ink-filled quill at the ready.
A rotund Slytherin with hungry eyes within the group began to loudly call out his order. "Butterbeers all around! And a loaf of pumpkin bread. And a Danish if you don't mind. Oh, and maybe some of that—"
"Quiet, Arnold! Butterbeers would be fantastic. And a fresh slice of pumpkin bread for the lovely lady," Abraxas smiled as the woman looked at Hermione with an uplifted brow—almost sizing her up.
"Treating another new lass this week, Abraxas? She looks almost too good for you," the twenty-some-year-old waitress winked.
"She is," he said simply, "but you can't blame me for trying." Hermione rolled her eyes slightly and sighed between her amused smirk. When Malfoys go, they go all out.
The waitress walked away to place their order and get their drinks. Hermione turned to Abraxas who was already turned in her direction and reclined lazily in his chair.
"I have to step out to the powder room. I'll be back in a moment," Hermione smiled as she stood up, pushing her chair back. The young Malfoy seemed slightly apprehensive of her quick leave worrying it had been something he said, but nodded back nonetheless.
Hermione excused herself and walked to the back area where the bathrooms were. Once she found the doors labeled for their respective genders, she walked passed them silently until she reached the cellar storage door. She looked behind her quickly for any of the inn's staff before she crouched down, reached in her pocket, and pulled out a slightly rustled Nyoka.
"Miss Hermione, you need to invest in a new travel method for me. Your pocket is shrinking," Nyoka hissed spitefully.
"Or perhaps you are just growing," Hermione whispered. "Now, this is the Three Broomsticks Inn. The cellar should have plenty of mice and room for you to have a good afternoon. I'll be back by later in the day to get you. Don't get into too much trouble and make sure you stick to strictly the store area. Don't go into the larder or you're likely to be found. All right?" Hermione whispered her instructions and sat her down beside a crack in the cellar door.
"Yes, Miss Hermione. I shall wait for you, do not worry about me," The snake hissed eagerly as she imagined all the different flavors and sizes of mice that she would find down in the cellar. Hermione watched until Nyoka slithered from sight and stood up. She brushed off her clothes and walked back to the dining section and sat back down at the table.
"Welcome back, Miss Sivad. Company was growing quite lonely without you," spoke an all-too familiar, clean voice. Her heart leapt for a moment as she looked across the table from her and her eyes met the steady, dark gaze of Tom Marvolo Riddle. She knew she must've paled for a moment, so she quickly composed herself and straightened in her chair.
"It's nice to see you as well, Tom." Hermione let his name roll off her tongue. For a moment, he seemed slightly displeased, but no one else seemed to notice as the robust Slytherin known as Arnold shouted, "Food!"
The Scottish waitress from before that carried numerous pints of butterbeer on her tray rounded the table as another waitress followed closely behind with a tray of food. They made quick work of setting the food and drinks down in front of the students. It seems as though they even brought an extra pint out for Riddle.
"If you need anything else just give us a holler, sweetie," the curly-headed waitress said to Abraxas.
"Thank you, Melody." Abraxas inclined his head.
Arnold reached across the table and pulled the mounds of food toward him while the other students talked and sipped the sweet concoctions in their mugs. Hadrian—who seemed to have lost a groupie due to Riddle's appearance—was slightly bored with the attention of only a single female. Hermione could feel Riddle's eyes boring into her, but instead of looking his way, she chose to talk with Abraxas about her classes and recent RSVP to the Slug Club. She occasionally took bites of the powdered-sugar covered pumpkin bread, allowing it to melt into her mouth throughout his portion of the conversation. He was enthusiastic in everything she had to say. She could almost see herself truly becoming friends with a Malfoy.
"By the way, thank you for the invitation. I really am having a wonderful time." Hermione smiled.
"It's my pleasure. Good company belongs with good company. Am I right?" He shouted and raised his mug high in the air. The rest of the boys at the table leaned in with a "Here, here!" and did the same. Their glasses began to meet in the center of the table with a parade of hearty clangs and slight sloshing of the sweet beverages onto the surface of the wood.
Hermione looked across the way at Riddle. He hadn't joined in, but instead sat leaned back in his chair, fingers touching one another so that his hands were in the shape of a triangle resting against his lips making him appear much like a plotting mastermind. Had someone painted a picture, he would have been the look of stoic perfection. Hermione looked into Riddle's dark eyes feeling as though time had slowed around her, reality sinking in.
Here she sat amongst her enemies and future killers. Those who would come to bear descendants that would slaughter hundreds under the Dark Lord's reign clanged glasses together in celebration, just as they would many years from now, but for other reasons. Here she sat at the round table of the Knights of Walpurgis. Complete with their own versions of Ser Galahads, Ser Lancelots, and Ser Tristans—all with their own tales to be told—and at the head of this table sat their high king ruler. He was hardly a figure of Arthurian legend sparked from tales of greatness and triumph through combating of evil. No. He was their witch king, their dark knight, and their devious prince in disguise who had strings tied to the tips of fingers for his puppets. All he had to do was pull and he would put on quite a show. Hermione knew that, but did he? How far have things gone at this point? She observed the mask of perfection that he wore. Though he was the harbinger of darkness, Hermione could see why this young man was sorely and ruefully mistaken as a messiah during his time.
With a jerk, it almost felt as though time resumed itself as Arnold's glass broke, splashing butterbeer all over his clothes and the floors. Hermione jumped at the sound. Even Riddle flinched slightly.
"You oaf!" Hadrian shouted as he and the soaked, shrieking girl beside him received part of the backlash from the breaking. Everything grew quiet as the whole inn watched the exchange. Hermione felt her face grow hot from the many wandering eyes, until Abraxas broke the silence with hearty laughter. The whole inn followed in his merriment by hitting glasses (though not as hard). Hermione shook her head slightly. This is going to be time indeed…
Their visit at the Broomsticks drew quickly to an end as Melody the waitress looked at Abraxas in heated disapproval, signaling them to take their leave before the innkeeper found out. Abraxas had slapped a handful of galleons on the table—not to mention two additional galleons to tip (and cover the broken mug no doubt).
The group filtered out into the streets going their own separate ways: Hadrian ran off toward a back alley with a girl whom Hermione didn't recall seeing at the table, while the other rest of the Slytherin and Ravenclaw troupe scattered about to shop. Hermione, Abraxas, and Tom were the only ones left standing.
"Where to?" Abraxas asked the pair. Tom seemed quite indifferent—if not bored with the situation, leaving Hermione to decide.
"Maybe we could walk around the shops. I'm quite interested as to what Hogsmeade has to offer," Hermione said, playing her role of newcomer well.
"Shopping, of course," Riddle scoffed. Hermione's nose twitched a bit at his remark.
"Come on, Tom and I will gladly show you around," Abraxas said somewhat-chidingly in reference to Riddle.
They walked down the street and Hermione observed the scenes through the shop windows as Abraxas explained the products they carried. For a moment, she tried to pretend it was Ron and Harry walking with her through the streets, teasingly showing her around the town before they would peek in the windows of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop and laugh at the many young men who were stranded with their starry eyed captors, seeking quick getaway. If only.
"And lastly, this is Tomes and Scrolls: a store filled with spell books, unique pieces of literature, and is the number one supplier of the Daily Prophet in Hogsmeade," Abraxas said of the small store that sat on the end of the street. Hermione pushed open the door and walked in.
The building was fresh and the books new. Back home in her time, the building smelled of aging parchments, mildewed pages, and torn bindings, but then again business wasn't booming like it was now. Here it sat in its prime glory. She smiled slightly and browsed for a few moments with no particular object in mind. Abraxas leaned against a shelf near the door reading a copy of the Daily Prophet—the quidditch score section no doubt. Tom had wandered off to his own section of interest. Before long, they left the store and rounded the street again.
As they passed by Galadres Dresses—an upper-end clothing store—Hermione heard a shriek in the form of her name. They all turned quickly to see Aviela standing in the window motioning for them to come inside. Hermione looked back at her two escorts. Tom's eyes were bored, but Abraxas motioned for her to go ahead. She opened the door and they followed her in.
Aviela ran and gave Hermione a hug, nearly pulling her down.
"Aviela! How are you?" Hermione asked through laughs as she struggled not to topple over.
"Fine. Christopher and I've been looking all over for you! Are you enjoying everything so far?" Aviela's more reserved twin, Christopher, stood awkwardly near a mannequin of a woman's bust.
"It has been wonderful. Abraxas and Tom have been showing me around the town."
"How very kind of you, Abraxas," Aviela said sweetly, completely forgoing Riddle's presence. The young Malfoy just laughed earnestly. "I've needed new winter robes for a while, so I thought I might as well get them now—the Daily Prophet is calling for an early winter! Not to mention Christopher ripped his school robes on a branch today during herbology class as well."
"Can we move along now?" Christopher said impatiently already holding a bag in hand.
"Not yet! I have a second opinion now!" Aviela gestured to Hermione. "Come on, you can try a few things on as well!" She was now pulling Hermione by the hand.
"Aviela, really, I insist—" Hermione interjected.
"Come on!" Aviela continued dragging her to the fitting sections. The young men stood sharing in an uncomfortable silence.
Aviela ushered Hermione atop a stepping stool. A plump witch came out from a back room with measuring tape and asked Hermione to remove her coat. She did, despite her own wishes. After a few quick measurements the witch disappeared into the back room again. Hermione looked over at Aviela who was already being assisted by another, thinner witch whom praised the bubbly girl as she modeled a light blue winter cape. She twirled around with a bright smile.
"Hermione, what do you think?"
"I think it looks lovely. It suits you." Hermione smiled. An uneasy feeling took over in the pit of her stomach as she watched the soft material sashay with Aviela's turning. There was no way she'd be able to afford what they offered here. Due to the fact that she came with nothing to her new name, Hermione was registered as a part of the student body that received financial aid. Through this program offered at Hogwarts, it gave students of all backgrounds and home life the opportunity to have an education there. The school gave her money to pay for her lesson materials, books, robes, and spending money for the entirety of the fall semester and Yule holidays, and then some for the spring semester, but not for summer breaks. Though this was a generous offer, the amount given was certainly not enough to splurge with. Hermione knew this was all too true in remembering her small bag of mostly knuts and a few sickles she carried in her coat pocket for the day.
The plump seamstress came out quickly and ushered Hermione into a coat before turning her around to face the mirror. The coat was a bright, ruby red pea coat. It had hand-sewn wooden fastens and a black, velvet-lined hood. In comparison, it made her frayed sweater and skirt look more like dish rags than clothing. Aviela shrieked in appraisal of the outerwear and even Abraxas offered a nod of aristocratic approval. Tom grew more and more irritated with the nonsense while Christopher watched Hermione turn in the mirror at Aviela's wishes with hidden admiration on his face.
"Oh, Hermione! You have to get it! It fits you perfectly!" Aviela pleaded slightly. "I'll take my coat as well." She handed the bluebell colored coat over to her seamstress who walked it over to the register's counter, price obviously not being a problem for her.
Hermione looked at the price tag hanging from the sleeve of the coat. It read twenty-eight galleons. Her face grew hot.
"Come on, Hermione! Take it to the register, and then we'll swing by Honeyduke's!" Aviela ushered her off the stool.
"It's about time," Tom drawled. Abraxas rolled his eyes at him.
"Hurry, Aviela. I promised to meet Farkas at the Broomsticks," Christopher groaned quietly. Aviela quickly made her purchase, handing over a number of galleons in a bag for the witch to sort through. Hermione allowed the coat to be taken off of her and the witch walked over to the register.
"Well, what are you waiting for Hermione?" Aviela asked with her bag in hand.
"Come on, Sivad, we haven't all day," Tom said impatiently.
Hermione's mouth grew dry and she grabbed her own coat off the rack and pulled out her small money pouch, peeking inside in hopes of seeing a bounty of galleons hidden in its velveteen folds, but she only saw a handful of sickles and a number of chipped knuts.
"I… I can't," Hermione said uneasily.
"Of course you can, Hermione! It's totally worth it!" Aviela said in attempts to convince her.
"No… I can't. I just—" Then the realization struck the rest of them. She was without proper funding. Hermione Sivad was poor. Just what she needed to be, a charity case.
"Oh Merlin, Hermione… I'm sorry," Aviela spoke regretfully.
"Hermione, don't worry, it'll be my treat. It looks absolutely wonderful on—"
"No," Hermione interrupted Abraxas' attempts, "It's all right, really." She smiled weakly. Before pulling her old coat on and walking out of the door, leaving the others feeling embarrassed and ignorant. Tom watched her walk away with slight curiosity until she vanished from the shop window's sight.
Hermione felt mortified at her predicament. She had gone through money issues a few times before as a young girl, but as her parents became more successful in their dentistry business, her stability and money worries completely vanished. This exchange was just another small testament to how alone she was—not just emotionally, but also financially.
Hermione had walked beyond the edge of town to a place where she, Harry, and Ron used to sit upon a large boulder and eat chocolate frogs in the spring. It was also the place where they would hold snowball fights with Fred and George during the winter. She sat upon the familiar smooth, cold surface and lied back, watching the gray afternoon clouds cluster and pass overhead. Her heart lurched with the want to cry, but her face held steady as she watched the clouds gather further, darkening the autumnal skies.
After a while, she heard what sounded like rather large footsteps rustling through piles of leaves in the slightly forested area. Hermione brushed it off as the wind, until she heard the sound of crunching and stomping again. By now Hermione was standing fully, wand out, and brows furrowed. She listened closer to what sounded like deep sobs coming from the cluster of trees and bare bushes to her right. She proceeded with caution toward the sound of the strange creature.
"Hello?" Hermione called out. The sobs ceased and the air grew still. "Is—is anyone there?"
It was then that Hermione saw a somewhat large, furry-looking figure step out from behind a tree. She held her wand tighter and pointed it at the thing. The creature began to walk toward her.
"Don't—don't move," she said somewhat threateningly in concern for her safety. "Who are you?"
"What does it matter? Yer probably here to make fun of me too. Go 'head, take yer best go. I'm sure I've had worse." The voice sounded like that of a young boy, but held a slight rumble to it.
Feeling no threat, Hermione lowered her wand and placed it back within her coat.
"Make fun of you? Why would I make fun of you?" Hermione asked curiously. The figure stepped out further from behind the trees.
"Look at me. I'm different. Ain't it reason enough?" The young wizard asked with a choked voice. Dried tears rested on his large cheeks as he attempted to rub the remaining moisture from his eyes with the sleeve of an oversized-patchwork coat that was clearly hand sewn.
"Ha—Hagrid?"
Hermione's heart lurched forward at seeing the lovable half-giant who was a part of her future. In her time, he was a beautiful old soul who—though clumsy—helped guide her through her years at Hogwarts, offered helpful advice, and picked her up when she was down—sometimes literally. She wished to go bury herself into the large boy's coat with a hug at the very sight of him, but she knew that probably wouldn't go over well with this being his first meeting of her.
"Of course you know my name. Everyone always comes to poke fun at ol' Hagrid." He said remorsefully.
"No, no! It's not like that. I am Hermione Sivad. I'm new here. I… I have heard your name. Dumbledore spoke of you to me on my first day here. He said… He said if I needed a friend... to come find you." Hermione pieced together her explanation. The young Hagrid's eyebrows furrowed at her statement.
Though he was younger than her in this time—him being in only his fourth year—he was still significantly taller and larger than her. He had scraggly brown hair that fell slightly past the collar of his coat and despite being so young, it seemed as though he was already on the verge of growing a beard. He wore tattered clothes that had been messily charmed to fight him and most of it was clearly made by all-too-large hands. She always admired Hagrid's resourcefulness—despite how shakily done some of his projects were.
"Why would you want to be my friend?" He asked cautiously, afraid of ulterior motives she may have such as so many others before her did.
"Because… I have no friends. Not truly. I used to… but that was a long time ago," Hermione felt her heart grow heavy.
Hagrid pondered her response and watched her face flicker with an expression he knew himself as sadness.
"Well… Hermione Sivad… I'll be yer friend," he smiled reassuringly at her. Hermione looked up at his broad smile. Despite his own hurt and pain, he still tried to make someone else happy. He was truly the Hagrid she remembered. Tears welled up in her eyes and before she knew it she had slung her arms around his large torso in a tight hug, letting the droplets fall silently.
Hagrid, being as awkward as he always had been, waved his arms around for a moment in confusion before patting her on the back with one hand, the other being suspended in mid-air. Hermione laughed and used her coat sleeve to brush away her tears.
"I'm sorry. I've just been missing home a lot and I've been missing my friends. I miss the way things used to be," Hermione answered truthfully. Hagrid sat down at the base of a tree and thought for a few moments.
"Ya know, sometimes we miss things, but new, better things will come and replace the emptiness, I promise," Hagrid offered his advice up to her, and though she knew he hardly believed the statement himself, she also knew that in time, he would come to find it to be true.
"Thanks, Hagrid. I'll be sure to remember that," She smiled and sat down at the base of a tree across from him.
Their friendship had begun. They talked and talked for hours, minutes, seconds—Hermione didn't know. She told her tale of her falsified life, but found herself revealing her true feelings through them. Hagrid told her of his past and of how kind Dumbledore had been to him. They talked about magical beasts, strawberry tarts, and the rough times they had experienced recently. She shared her story of what happened moments before they met, and he shared his of why he was hidden and crying. A few boys had been calling him an ogre and telling him to run back to his cave. Hermione commented on their stupidity and told him of how she didn't think he looked like an ogre.
Some of the things Hagrid had told Hermione she had already known from speaking with his older self in the future, but she talked with him, listened with him, and shared with him her own tales of misfortune and hilarity. They sat and talked at the base of those trees on the outskirts of Hogsmeade until the clouds had turned to the color of sherbet orange with the setting of the sun.
They left the wooded area and walked together, laughing and discussing a variety of topics as they passed by the shops. Many of the students had already left the town and were headed back to the castle with the exception of a few stragglers and last minute student shoppers. As they passed by the Three Broomsticks Inn, Hermione excused herself saying that she would catch up with him at the castle and waved goodbye.
The Inn's rush hour had ended and only a few tables were occupied aside from the bar. She walked to the back and passed the bathrooms quietly until she reached the cellar door. She waited and watched for a moment before calling out for her familiar.
"Nyoka," Hermione whispered into the wood of the cellar door, "We're leaving, it's time to go." Nyoka didn't answer, nor did she slither out of the small opening. Hermione heard footsteps pass by the entrance to the hallway and grew nervous. "Nyoka!"
Hermione thought up the best excuse she could muster for if she were caught and quietly pulled open the storage door, slipping inside, and shutting it softly behind her. A candled lantern in the back of the cellar slightly lit the dark room.
"Nyoka!" she called out a little more loudly this time.
"Miss Hermione…?" she heard the snake hiss from a corner. She followed the voice until she reached a stack of corked barrels. The snake laid lazily upon the ground, a lump in her belly and liquids surrounding her. The area smelt of spilt ale. "I feel… peculiar."
"Of course you do, you stupid serpent! You got into the ale. What did you expect?" Hermione said amused, despite trying to sound mad. She huffed and rolled her eyes before scooping up the snake and placing her within the folds of her coat. It was a tight fit, but the serpent adjusted regardless.
"AYE! What're ye doin' down 'ere?" A gruff voice called out. "Steal from me stock do ya think?" A large, burly man hobbled with a limp toward her. He brandished his wand from his vest pocket.
"I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't stealing, I was just—"
"Darned liar, I've 'bout had 'nuff of you kids comin' in here causin' a ruckus and stealin' from my stores." He continued walking toward her with a slight limp.
"Sir, please listen. I was just looking for my pet—" Hermione tried to reason.
"Oi, I've 'erd this'n before," He laughed disgustedly.
"But, it's true!" Hermione was in a panic. Students were allowed to use a few basic spells within regulation inside the premises of Hogsmeade when not at the school, but if she were using them to try and escape the scene and her wand registered it, she could be in worse trouble.
Suddenly, the man grabbed Hermione by the wrist and began dragging her toward the rear exit, his wand pointed at her all the while. She grew more terrified by the moment. She began to pull against his vice like grip.
"Let go!" Hermione said through gritted teeth as she used her weight to try and pull away to no avail.
"Can't say I ain't shocked to see 'nother one of yous, but I'm surprised that it was a gal this time," He laughed through his yellowed teeth. What did he plan to do?
She felt Nyoka stir within her pocket. The snake slithered out from the pocket's folds and rose on her haunches to wrap herself around Hermione's arm. She slithered up until she reached Hermione's captured wrist. Then what happened, next occurred in a blur.
The snake let out a menacing hiss, catching the attention of Hermione's attacker. The man yelled in shock as the snake revealed its fangs and struck his hairy arm, sinking in like knives cutting through bread. He released Hermione's wrist and stumbled backward reaching to grab the snake, but before he could a voice broke the chaos.
"Everte Statum!"
The man and Nyoka—who was still attached and clamping down upon him—were thrown across the cellar and crashed into a stack of crates containing grain which broke on contact sending the sacks across the floor and the lantern toppling as well. The glass shattered on the floor and the candle inside was doused. Hermione immediately ran over to the disillusioned inn keeper and gently picked up Nyoka who released the man's bloodied appendage. The snake coiled herself around her master's arm.
Hermione looked around in the half-darkness to see a tall figure looming behind her. The figure roughly placed his arm around her waist and forcefully ushered her out of the cellar's door to the outside. The evening's dim light greeted them causing Hermione to squint at the change in contrast. She stumbled as the man retracted his arm sharply. Hermione kept her back to the stranger in fear of turning around. Here she stood, trespassing, a student, and not to mention with Nyoka still on her arm with blood staining her shiny scales.
Hermione gulped and turned around to see Tom Riddle standing imposingly above her. His dark, squinted eyes flashing beneath knitted brows set into a stone face of misunderstanding and anger—but at whom she did not know.
"Who the hell are you, Hermione Sivad." He said through gritted teeth.
Nyoka rose on her haunches once more with exposed fangs and angrily hissed at the future dark lord. Riddle turned his head to the snake at breakneck speed and bore into her eyes with his own. The snake lay down meekly before quickly retreating into Hermione's pocket. His eyes flashed back to her.
"I—" Anger began mounting inside of her. She could've gotten herself out of the situation without his help, she just needed to think. "It doesn't matter who I am," she glared at him, "why were you following me around?"
"Do you honestly think I take time out of my day just to follow you on your own leisure activities? I was simply running to the me's room before leaving when I saw the open cellar door and heard your pathetic cries," Riddle seethed.
"I could've gotten out of the situation myself, I didn't need your assistance," Hermione retorted through gritted teeth.
"Of course you could and that's why that snake did it for you," He said with a wicked grin on his twisted face. Hermione tried not to convey any emotion.
"So what if I have a pet? Many people do." Hermione knew her answer was a dumb one and she knew he knew it as well.
"A pet that does your bidding? A pet that is protective of you? Not many have those, Sivad," Riddle laughed incredulously.
"Fine—all right, you caught me," Hermione said simply. Riddle slowly straightened himself from his lowered level to her face and waited for her explanation.
"My father… he used to dabble in different forms of the Imperius curse. He created a form of the curse that was more of an enchantment—an enchantment that could be used on lesser creatures—namely, animals. Yes, they will do your bidding. The enchantment is meant to be used to create a guard out of any animal, and in some respects, a controlled familiar. I've raised Nyoka since the day she hatched. She was my first test subject with the spell—"
"So why hasn't your father presented this new enchantment to the Ministry?" Riddle seemed slightly intrigued, though his tone still harsh.
"Do you honestly think that the Ministry would take well to my father using an unforgivable during experimentation with creatures?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "The enchantment wears off after a period of time and requires recasting, or the animal could possibly turn."
Riddle pondered for a moment.
"Besides, what do you think I was? A parseltongue? Salazar Slytherin's line has long since been gone, along with the parseltongues as well," Hermione scoffed at his notion—despite it being correct. Riddle thought about it for a moment and smirked, the tensions in his face easing up.
"You're right, Sivad. What a ridiculous notion indeed," he said with a honeyed tone that made Hermione uncomfortable.
"So now what? Are you going to tell everyone that Hermione Sivad has a guard-snake that is hell bent on attacking people?" She said crossing her arms.
"No. That would be a ridiculous notion as well," Riddle said as-a-matter-of-factly. Hermione breathed a slight sigh of relief.
"But," he continued, "Keep in mind, Hermione Sivad; I have a bit of leverage over you now. It'd be wise not to delve into matters that aren't your own." He looked in her eyes intensely.
Hermione relayed no emotions as she looked him in the eye. She felt him prodding at the walls of her mind. The force felt stronger than the last time he tried to read her mind, but she maintained her barriers. He chuckled slightly before turning to walk down the alleyway. Hermione wished not to linger near the crime scene any longer and followed him down the passage.
"You forget, Riddle, I have leverage on you as well—that is if you aren't expelled first because of it," Hermione retorted.
"You mean that spell? It's called wandless magic, Miss Sivad, I'm sure you're aware of it. Any strictly vocally casted spell won't register within the wand's memory. I assumed you would know that," Riddle stated sarcastically. "Besides, the inn keeper is known for hexing students who he finds looking for firewhiskey in the larder, I don't think anyone would have minded my coming to your rescue due to being lost," He drawled before quickly changing the subject before Hermione could lash out at him—her jaw was already dropped in disbelief of his audacity. "On another note, Slug Club meets tomorrow afternoon at three. You might want to borrow something from Aviela; your outfit isn't quite fit for this kind of setting." Riddle's words stung Hermione a bit especially since earlier's events, but she brushed them off and quickened her pace to keep up with his long strides.
"Fine then. And we need to start working on our Potion's project soon as well," She threw in.
"Start it on your own, it's a rather simple concoction. Unless you are incapable of doing it yourself and need me to save the day again." He smiled darkly trying to make her tick.
She gritted her teeth slightly at his comment. If there was anything Hermione Granger hated was someone thinking she couldn't do something herself. I'll show that twisted bastard.
The rest of the walk back was done in silence. She felt Riddle try to access her mind a few times, but she made no mention or reaction to it and neither did he. During those moments, Nyoka would squirm uncomfortably inside her coat pocket. The day had been long and Hermione had grown weary. Her first trip to Hogsmeade wouldn't be chalked up to a success in her book, but she met an old friend and had managed the company of her enemy for an extended amount of time. She had made progress, but she now had to walk on eggshells with Riddle—even more so than before.
She longed for her four-poster, but getting out of the presence of Tom Riddle would be a nice start.
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please feel free to message me with any questions, comments, or ideas you'd like to share and feel free to leave a review. I always enjoy hearing from my readers and getting feedback on what everyone thinks of the story so far! Hopefully the next chapter will be up before long and I can reveal a lot of interesting new scenarios to you guys. But for now, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all, and I'll see you soon!
-VS