A/N: Hey guys! I am stoked to bring you this chapter. I've been having a lot of stress lately due to school, family, and what the future holds for me, and I had to practically force myself to write, but when I did, I felt a million times better and lighter. Not only was writing this chapter therapeutic for me, but I am able to share it with you all! I have several deadlines for school assignments looming in the near future (next week), but I am hoping to have the next chapter written and up by the weekend. It'll do me some good and I am sure you guys will be happy about it. Anyways, hope you all enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, it's characters, locations, or items. All of it belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling and wonderful Warner Bros. Studio. I am simply a devout fan who tossed a bit of original content inside.
Hermione made a mad dash down the stairs of Hogwarts, attempting to fold her scarf neatly around her neck that was being jostled about with each stair step cleared. She had on a light jacket made of scratchy material and her wand tucked in her skirt pocket. After descending the many steps, she finally made it to the foyer and out of the castle's large doors.
Stepping outside, Hermione was met with a crisp nip in the air, wind rustling dried orange and red leaves, and the sun high in the sky marking midday. She closed her eyes momentarily and let the warmth of the sun dance across her cheeks.
"Hermione!" A voice called to her faintly from a distance and she could see an arm waving in the air, beckoning to her from the trail that led to Hogsmeade.
The students of Hogwarts were on their way to Hogsmeade to enjoy a Saturday away, and most importantly, to go shopping for the impending Halloween Ball that was only a week away. The halls had been abuzz for weeks with speculation of the event's theme, until the committee revealed their grandiose plans the previous day. Hermione had yet to learn of the theme; she had skipped out on social interaction more than she thought she had been.
Hermione jogged toward the waving figure. With no bag to weigh her down, she was able to run freely. She felt somewhat guilty for leaving Nyoka behind in the castle and not bringing her along to enjoy getting away for a while—especially with winter drawing near—but considering last visit's fatal incident and how shaken she still felt, Hermione thought it best.
Nyoka had begged for Hermione to take her along, but when she told the snake why she couldn't allow it and finally confessed the inn keeper's death, Nyoka didn't seem too shaken by it. That had left Hermione unsettled immensely, but she made the serpent vow to never attack without her permission again. Nyoka agreed, but had felt as though her master was ungrateful for protecting her and took off into the shrinking crack in the wall due to her growth in size, mumbling about humans being fools. Hermione wasn't concerned, she knew the snake would come around.
Hermione finally caught up with the other students, her face flushed pink from the cold and her jogging. The students were exceptionally lively, bustling around and talking excitedly.
"I only have one week to get a date! Who do you suppose I should take?" A girl pouted loudly.
"How about Cristin Tamsin?" Another girl replied.
"Hm… I was thinking more along the lines of Tom Riddle, actually," the sleek-haired Slytherin girl decided.
Hermione's ears perked up. She could've cared less about the girl's endeavors to pull in Riddle for a date. In fact, she wished her luck: she would need it. Hermione doubted Tom would even take part in the event.
"Hermione, Hermione, over here!" Hermione smiled, she could pick out Aviela's voice anywhere. She walked in the direction of the voice.
Aviela walked with Christopher, Minerva, and to her pleasant surprise, Hagrid.
"Sorry it took so long," Hermione announced upon entering the line in which the group walked.
"What kept you?" Aviela asked.
"Studying, the usual," Hermione lied. There was no way she was going to explain to them how she had an argument with her pet snake over not allowing her to attend a school organized field trip.
"We've been discussing what we're going to do for our costumes for the ball! What are you going to do, Hermione?" Minerva questioned.
"Actually, I don't know what the theme is yet," Hermione admitted.
"Wow. When you study you really are absorbed in it, aren't you? Figured you would've heard something by now what with all the chatter about it," Christopher commented as he repeatedly kicked a rock in front of him as he walked.
"The theme is… An animal masquerade!" Aviela announced, adding a pause for flair and to build up excitement.
"An animal masquerade?" Hermione inquired.
"Um-hmm. It's going to be great. Everyone dresses up really fancy, but to hide our identities, we all wear decorated animal masks!" Aviela nearly jumped up and down in excitement.
"Sounds unique, indeed," Hermione commented. Something about the idea seemed familiar to her, but she couldn't recall why.
"Before ye came, we were just decidin' what animals we would all be," Hagrid added.
"Is that so? Have you all decided?" Hermione asked.
"Mostly, but we some of us are still on the fence about it. Galadres Dresses will be selling themed, premade masks and supplies… but there are other shops that will be selling them too!" Aviela quickly added, a tinge of guilt tinting her cheeks pink at remembering the incident that happened at Galadres' last Hogsmeade visit. Hermione didn't penalize her friends for not knowing of her financial situation when walking into the high-end wizard and witch clothing store, but she didn't wish to revisit it either.
"Sounds fantastic," Hermione smiled, pretending not to notice the slip up, "so what are the animals you all have chosen?"
"I am going to be an adorable, white mouse. Not a disgusting rat or anything—it'll be cute, I promise!" Aviela quickly defended her idea.
"No, no, I absolutely understand what you are saying. I am sure it'll be lovely," Hermione insisted.
"I've decided to be a cat. A gray tabby, in fact," Minerva said confidently. Hermione smiled widely in recognizing the description of the Gryffindor's future animagus form.
"I can see it completely," Hermione commented. "What about you, Hagrid?"
"I haven't decided quite what I want to do yet, but yer welcome to give me some ideas," Hagrid scratched the back of his head with a large hand. After a moment of intense thought, Aviela brightened and spoke.
"Hm… What about a bear?" she exclaimed.
"A bear, huh? Ye know, I kind o' like it," Hagrid smiled.
"Well, I am still undecided, and no, I won't tell you my ideas, Aviela," Christopher yawned, appearing to be exhausted from lack of sleep due to the bags under his eyes.
"But what if somebody steals your idea?" Aviela seemed borderline desperate to save her twin brother from a fashion faux pas upon possibly showing up to a formal event in the same garb as another.
"Then I am sure you can live with not being my twin for the night," Christopher retorted as Aviela groaned.
"So what about you, Hermione? Any ideas on what you will be?" Minerva asked.
"Not the slightest clue," Hermione shrugged. While everyone was frivolously enthralled by the event, she had other concerns on her mind that were more imperative.
"Well, we'll be on the lookout for something fabulous and totally you," Aviela affirmed.
By the time their conversations about the ball had drawn to a close, they had reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Students dashed in various directions, some to the Three Broomsticks, some to miscellaneous supply shops, but the majority of students raced for the clothing stores to secure the best masks and materials possible—Aviela among them, pulling Minerva in her wake. When Hermione didn't follow, Aviela quickly stopped.
"Oh, come on, Hermione! The best things will be taken if we don't get a head start," Aviela groaned. Minerva quirked an eyebrow in slight pleading for her to join them.
"There a few things I wanted to take care of before I began searching, I'll catch up in a bit, promise," Hermione assured them.
"Suit yourself," Aviela said as she grabbed Minerva and dashed off into the cobblestoned streets, leaves catching the wind around them as they left.
"Do you really have stuff to do?" Christopher asked, skeptical.
"Not in the slightest," Hermione said blatantly.
Christopher chuckled and Hagrid guffawed.
"Grab a bite at the Broomsticks?" Christopher more commented than asked.
"Sure," Hermione chuckled.
"Well, let's get goin'. I'm starvin'," Hagrid bellowed as he held up an arm. Hermione took it graciously and allowed the pair to lead her to the Inn. They laughed together as Christopher told a story about what had transpired between Aviela and the tough-nailed Hufflepuff when they disagreed on the decorations. He exclaimed that he had never seen a Hufflepuff with a look of wanting to hex someone so badly before.
Hermione let go of Hagrid's arm as she entered the doorway to the Inn behind Christopher, the warmth and sweet smells engulfing her once again. Hagrid ducked low, but still managed to bump his head on the beam, letting out a muffled "ouch." Some students milled about or sat drinking butterbeer and laughing, including a group of Slytherins.
They crossed the dining room, passed the table of Slytherins to a large, round table in the form of a booth in the corner near a window. Each time they passed a set of table and chairs and their occupants, Hagrid let out a low, "excuse me, sorry there."
After being comfortably seated, the trio picked up their menus from a wired rack on the table to make their choices. Hermione's eyes immediately drifted to the desserts, falling upon the pumpkin spice bread. Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled slightly despite having a hearty breakfast at Hogwarts. She yearned to order the dessert, but she thought it would be best to forgo the delicacy; she would hate to ask for Aviela to help fund her costume for the ball because she splurged on food at the Inn—even though she knew the petite blond wouldn't mind. There will be more opportunities for pumpkin bread.
She peered over at Hagrid who seemed to be having the same dilemma. She would almost readily give up her funds just to make the half-giant boy smile. Things had gotten better for him since Hermione stood up for him, but she could still see the far off look in his eyes when he was alone or in thought. It was the same look Harry had when he would think of his parents, the same look she had found herself making when glancing at her reflection in the windows of the castle: the look of an orphan. Although her parents were out there waiting for her to come home for the holidays, unknowing of what fate destiny had woven for her, in this time, they were just as dead to her as Harry's parents were to him. As for Hagrid's parents, whether it was a case of abandonment, death, or both, Hermione could see the lines etched into his young face when left alone to his thoughts.
However, she found herself blessed that she at least was able to know her parents, grow with them, and still have a chance to find them once again; Harry nor Hagrid would ever have that chance.
"So what can I get you?" the voice of a waitress chimed, pulling Hermione from her morbid thoughts.
"A lemon pastry puff and a spiced hot chocolate," Christopher told the blond woman as he placed his menu back in the wired rack on the table.
"Er… I'll have a water…" Hagrid said sheepishly, never being one to be very discreet about his personal situations even when trying.
"What he means is he'll have a hot chocolate and a slice of blueberry cake," Christopher affirmed the waitress while Hagrid looked on, slightly embarrassed, but thankful nonetheless.
"And what about you, love?" the waitress asked while jotting down the previous order.
"Just a cup of hot tea is all, thank you," Hermione said confidently, trying to assure Christopher of her order so that he didn't order over top of her.
"Alright, I'll be back in a jiffy," the waitress said as she headed back to the kitchens. After she left, Christopher, who sat across from her in the round booth, turned to her.
"Are you positive that is all you wanted? I can get you—"
"I am sure. I had a big breakfast this morning at the castle, but thank you, Christopher," Hermione smiled to him in appreciation. He didn't seem content with her answer, but he let her be.
Hermione turned to allow her eyes to scan the patrons of the Inn. As usual, a group of men from nearby villages sat talking and laughing loudly, sharing pints of ale. Students talked over half eaten scones and cocoa. The Inn was just as lively as before, despite the death of the old keeper. In fact, it seemed livelier. She hated the idea that the death of the previous owner may have been a positive thing for the place. The thought that a series of small decisions had brought forth such a terrible outcome, and then some good along with it did not sit well with her. Although she could argue that it was defense or not truly her fault, she still laid claim to Nyoka and the blame would rest on her shoulders just as the guilt had.
Hermione's eyes locked with a pair of dark ones from across the room. Tom Riddle sat among the Slytherins and appeared to have already been looking at her. The Slytherins around the table, including Abraxas and Hadrian, chatted animatedly as they ate. Arnold, the robust Slytherin, sat with them, but seemed much tamer than he had been on the last visit.
She held Riddle's gaze as he sat, straight-backed in his chair, hands resting on the table, fingers drumming. He seemed to almost be challenging her, not blinking once. A staring contest? Well, she wasn't playing. She saw his exterior, a dastardly evil heir, plotting against muggleborns and mudbloods alike to purge the world in the name of Salazar, in the name of the greater good. A manipulator, a conman, a dark messiah—everything he was, and yet, wasn't.
It's not his fault. It's not his fault. It's not his fault. Hermione kept repeating the mantra to herself as she felt her blood run slightly cold upon looking into the face of deadly perfection.
It's not his fault.
After staring for what felt like an eternity, Hermione's eyes softened at the thought of the burdens they both carried. To others, it might've appeared to be a look of sympathy, and perhaps it was. Hermione blinked a few times before taking a deep breath through her nostrils and offering him a half-hearted smile. Riddle didn't return the smile, but instead, quirked his head slightly with a raise eyebrow.
Abraxas, who sat to Riddle's right, took notice of the direction of which his closest mate was staring. When he saw Hermione, he quickly threw up a hand and a large smile, flashing his brilliant white teeth in greeting. Hermione smiled and waved back. Abraxas' eyes fell on Christopher for a moment and the Malfoy heir inclined his head slightly, Christopher did so stiffly, to the point that had Hermione not been observant, the odd formal greeting between the two would have gone unnoticed.
Their view was quickly blocked as the waitress returned with a tray in hand.
"Here we go, loves. A lemon puff pastry and spiced hot chocolate, blueberry cake and hot chocolate, and a tea for you, dear. Let me know if you need anything else!" The waitress left as quickly as she had arrived.
Hagrid dove into his cake and began sipping his cocoa fervently. One would think he was starved had they not known of his appetite. Christopher attempted to neatly eat his pastry, but an unusually shaky hand led him to drop a piece of the dessert into his spiced cocoa clumsily. He fished it out nonchalantly and continued eating. Hermione began sipping her tea patiently, savoring it, but knowing that before long she would probably be hungry.
The trio sat in comfortable silence as they enjoyed their small meals. Hermione rested her elbows on the table and the held the cup of tea, cradled in her sleeved hands to protect her from the hot glass, and let the steam warm her face. She sighed, smelling the herbal drink. She remembered having afternoon tea with her mother and placing their cups—tea bags and all—into the sink, forgoing them to walk the streets of London and look for quirky items in shops to decorate their home with. It was something they did together mostly on rainy days when her father was away spending time with colleagues. On the days that her mother visited with friends, her father would spoil her with an evening out for ice cream.
"Here you go, darling, enjoy," a different waitress than the one they had previously said as she placed a plate with a slice of pumpkin bread covered in powdered sugar in front of her.
"Pardon me, but I am sorry, I didn't order anything else," Hermione spoke up and gestured to the tea in her hand as the waitress turned to leave.
"Don't worry, it's already been covered," the waitress said with a flick of her wrist before bustling off. Hermione looked after her confusedly.
"Hey 'Ermione, looks like someone's thinkin' 'bout ye," Hagrid said through a mouthful of cake.
"I guess so," Hermione shrugged as Christopher ignored the situation and kept eating.
Hermione took the shiny fork that rested on the plate and took a bite. As the bread melted in her mouth, she sighed. Not having a dress for the ball would have totally been worth getting this.
After they had finished and paid for their meals accordingly, Hagrid, Christopher, and Hermione left to find Aviela. The air seemed to have grown colder. Whether it was because they had been spoiled by the warmth inside the Inn or because the temperature had truly dropped, she didn't know, but regardless she wrapped her scarf a little tighter around her neck.
As they deliberated on where they each thought Aviela and Minerva had gone, the group of Slytherins that had been inside previously poured out into the streets. The girl that had been behind her on the walk over to Hogsmeade, who had spoken of asking Riddle to the ball, stood beside him, giggling and twirling a strand of hair playfully. Riddle, however, looked rather bored with it all. The stout girl that had been also been present gaped at Hadrian longingly. Hermione shook her head slightly and turned back to Hagrid and Christopher.
A hand came to rest on Hermione's back, and acting upon instinct, she jumped and her hand twitched toward her wand.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, Hermione," Abraxas apologized and removed his hand. Hermione found it to be an odd sudden gesture, but ignored it.
"It's alright, Abraxas. How are you?"
"I'm quite fine. Did you enjoy your lunch?" Abraxas asked politely, however she saw through his ruse.
"I take it you were the one that surprised me with one of my favorites, then?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at him accusingly.
"Maybe, maybe not. All that matters is that you enjoyed it," Abraxas grinned.
"It was delicious, in fact. Thank you, Abraxas."
"You're welcome," Abraxas admitted graciously. "We're going out by the rocks to watch Arnold try the new Pepper Imps from Honeydukes. Apparently it makes you breathe fire. I came over to ask if you would like to join us."
Hermione looked back to Hagrid who looked at her pitifully and Christopher who appeared to be tight lipped.
"It sounds like fun, but we promised Aviela we'd meet up with her right away," Hermione admitted; she would rather go shopping with Aviela than hang out with a large group of Slytherins who detested her presence any day—save for Abraxas. Suddenly Riddle stood beside Abraxas.
"You can join us for a little while, Miss Sivad. We really need to discuss our Potions project for Slughorn. You don't think Aviela would mind her absence do you, Christopher?" Although Riddle had asked Christopher, Hermione felt it was more of a command with little room for discussion. It was odd for Riddle to act such a way to other students openly, but perhaps Hermione just knew his games all too well and found them easily recognizable.
"Not at all. As long as she stays safe," Christopher replied. Riddle smirked.
"You have my word." The future Dark Lord closed his eyes and bowed his head momentarily to the fair-haired boy before her.
"Come on, Hagrid. We'll catch up later, Hermione," Christopher said as he quickly turned and began walking. Hagrid seemed confused, but followed the Ravenclaw boy anyway. Abraxas stood silently, face impassive, but the appearance was shed as he turned back to Hermione.
"Alright, let's get going!" the Malfoy heir smiled brightly.
Hermione sat on the edge of a large rock beside Abraxas. Arnold had eaten the majority of the Pepper Imps in one go, only spewing flames out every few minutes when he belched. At first, it had incited laughter, but the students grew weary of it after the first few times. Hadrian had ran off into the forest with a giggling Hufflepuff girl—which no one had questioned—and left the stout Slytherin girl pouting. Tom Riddle stood leaned against a tree, nonchalantly playing with his wand. The thin, dark-haired girl, whom Hermione had found out was called Millie, stood beside him, asking frivolous questions.
Riddle answered every one of them simply or without much thought, but every time Millie would laugh as though he had told a joke and add in a small anecdote about herself, which would go uncommented upon by Riddle.
Hermione continued to observe the crowd of Slytherins who milled about the rocks chatting and casting minor charms that were allowed within the limits of Hogsmeade. Abraxas lie on his back, whistling a tune beside of her. He seemed so carefree and relaxed, much unlike the Malfoys in her time who were stubborn, shrewd, and bullies. She couldn't understand what went wrong with them.
"So how are you liking Hogwarts so far?" Abraxas spoke as he sat up on his elbows.
"Well, it's much unlike my old school, but I like it a lot better actually. It feels like home," Hermione said, telling her half-truth: the only true part being that it felt like home.
"I would say so. I believe Hogwarts has always been a second home to most of the students," Abraxas said as he rubbed a thumb over his neatly clipped nails. "It can get a little boring sometimes though, you know?"
Boring was the last thing she considered when she thought of Hogwarts. Every year she had attended, a new misadventure or danger awaited for her and her friends to conquer or overcome. As she had grown, she found sitting at home in London in relaxation to be more taxing and boring than anything. She had gotten too accustomed to the thrills the wizarding world had to offer as opposed to the muggle one.
"I can understand how you'd feel," Hermione replied, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing with his last statement.
"Along with all the homework we have it can get a little stressful as well. It's a good thing we Slytherins can find ways to unwind and have a little fun," Abraxas stated while yawning. "So what do you Ravenclaws do for fun?"
"Well, just the usual: study, play chess, make treks to the library," Hermione listed plainly. In all actuality, she was unsure of what Ravenclaws did in their down time. She was so absorbed in her own personal activities and issues that she never had truly participated in lounging about the common room as she had as a Gryffindor with Harry and Ron.
"I should've known," Abraxas guffawed, "is it really that dull in the towers? We have a lot more fun in the dungeons."
"So what do Slytherins do for fun?" Hermione retorted, feeling slightly prickled by his idea that reading and studying were mundane activities.
Abraxas smiled deviously.
"We have our own parties of course," Abraxas grinned.
"Parties? Don't you all ever get caught?" Hermione asked, skeptical.
Abraxas looked over at Riddle who seemed slightly agitated by Millie's presence before turning back to her.
"Nope."
Looking in Riddle's direction, Hermione mentally smacked herself for her stupidity. Of course they didn't get in trouble, the prefect and golden boy of Hogwarts made sure of that. He could smooth talk his way out of almost any situation to any professor and would get off with no less than a pat on the back and an award for his hard work in hand—so long as he steered clear of Albus Dumbledore, the only one who saw through his façade.
"Well, that's quite some luck you have, then," Hermione commented, unsure of what to say.
"You should come to the next one. They are always fun," Abraxas commented.
"I am not so sure that's a good idea. I've never been to any party other than Slughorn's and my own during birthdays. Besides, I would be caught anyway," Hermione babbled. She had never been to a true party, but if they were anything like the ones held in her time, she wasn't so sure she would fit in or would want to.
"Nonsense. Tom can personally escort you there. You could use a little fun. Being in that tower is going to make you too light headed, anyway," Abraxas joked as he pointed to her forehead with his index finger. Hermione laughed and swatted it away.
"I may attend, but studying comes first," Hermione settled, not making any promises.
"Ravenclaws," Abraxas groaned. Hermione then watched as Riddle pushed himself off the tree and walked away with Millie in mid-conversation, paying her no mind as her mouth dropped in shock. He stopped in front of the two sitting on the large rock.
"Would you like to go for a walk, Miss Sivad?" Riddle stood before her, palm extended to her. Hermione looked at his hand warily, but accepted the gesture nonetheless. Taking his hand, she allowed him to help her off the rock she sat upon. When her hand touched his, a jolt of electricity flowed from his touch. Hermione nearly thought he was hexing her wandlessly, but when the odd sensation was quickly replaced by the warmth of his hand, she shoved the thoughts away the best she could. No matter what she had learned of him because of what Alphard had told her, she still couldn't rid herself of the horrible memories Riddle had given her in her own time.
With a surprisingly light touch, Riddle finished helping her and led the way into the forest, smiling deviously. Hermione then took note of Millie who stood off by the tree Riddle had been at previously, fuming at the interaction between the two. Hermione's expression immediately grew sour at his "nice" gesture; she was quite positive he had only done it to get Millie off his back. Abraxas sat on the rock looking on in frustration at their retreating forms.
Hermione finally caught up with Riddle who had gained more distance than she thought possible. She had to take a moment to catch her breath as she examined him. He walked with his hands clasped behind his back, face blank; par usual of him.
"He was going to ask you to the masquerade," Riddle stated.
"What?"
"Abraxas. He was about to ask you to attend the Halloween masquerade with him," Riddle repeated.
"You don't know that," Hermione retorted.
"Don't I?" Riddle looked at her inquisitively. Is he suggesting that he read Abraxas' mind? Are his subjects so loyal that they surrender their thoughts completely already? Hermione wasn't so sure, but the idea that this could be true left her slightly shaken.
"Well, Millie was going to ask you to the ball," Hermione brought forth.
"And how is it that you know this?"
"She said so herself on the way over to Hogsmeade. She wasn't very discreet about it, either," Hermione divulged.
"I see," Riddle said simply.
Hermione stepped over a large branch, but her foot caught over the last step and she stumbled. Riddle withdrew a hand from behind his back and grabbed her by the elbow with instinctive reflexes, steadying her easily. Then Riddle withdrew his hand, almost like he had been stung, and clasped it together with other behind him once again.
"Thanks," Hermione forced out.
Riddle said nothing. After a few minutes of silence, Hermione continued the conversation.
"It wasn't like it mattered, anyway. You aren't attending the ball," Hermione alleged.
"Is that so? I didn't know that you dictated when and where I went, Miss Sivad," Riddle retorted. Hermione swallowed hard.
"I assumed—"
"That's obvious," Riddle interjected as he ducked below a branch in the forested area.
"I assumed you would rather not partake in such frivolities. I assumed you would have better things to do," Hermione shrugged.
"Oh? Such as?" Riddle rounded on her, waiting for an answer.
"Whatever it is that you do when not in the dining hall, or in class, or working on our project with me," Hermione said calmly, but challenging him at the same time.
Riddle stared at her long enough just to make her uneasy, then allowed the corner of his lip to quirk upward at her in a small smirk before turning back around and continuing walking.
"You're right. I didn't want to attend. Not in the very least. In fact, I thought it a foolish notion that someone would even have the audacity to think that I would."
At this point, Hermione couldn't tell if he was being serious or sarcastic and let out a frustrated sigh.
"But you could, if you wanted to," Hermione commented, trying to ease the tension.
"If I wanted to," Riddled repeated uncaringly and stopped abruptly, peering out of the clearing before them at a village in the distance.
From what Hermione could tell, the village was of decent size and a church steeple disturbed the skyline of roofs that flowed like a small sea of waves. Surrounding the town were any number of small farming communities with fields ripe for harvest—mainly with corn and pumpkins.
"So what is that place?" Hermione asked, but a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that she already knew.
"A town called Little Hangleton," Riddle spoke, confirming her worst fears.
She had just helped him scout out the location of his father whom he would murder that following year, creating his second horcrux. His second… Hermione swallowed hard.
Not if I can help it.
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I am hoping to get the next one up by the end of the weekend (if college work permits), so be on the look out.
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Constant Vigilance!
-VS