The three friends sat in silence in the Three Broomsticks, everyone with a butter beer in front of them. On the way to the village Augusta had told them about her conversation with Hermione Dumbledore and all three had instinctively felt that they had been right to interfere in this matter.

For a short moment, Ignatius indeed doubted his sanity after it had become known that Hermione and Riddle were now a couple, but the way the conversation with Augusta had proceeded finally dispelled all doubts. The relationship between the American newcomer and the universally beloved head boy was definitely not harmonious.

"Can you repeat what she said about Riddle's charm?" Ignatius asked.

Briefly, Augusta frowned, then she repeated slowly, "It was something like this: The charisma that Riddle possesses could easily be exploited by a man who is not righteous. Yes, that would be pretty much the exact words. "

Slowly, Markus nodded. "I understand what you are getting at. She didn't say that Riddle is such a man, but the implication is there. Does she think he's taking advantage of his charisma?"

Ignatius leaned over the table in order to answer with a softer voice. "Actually, we see that ourselves, don't we? I cannot remember that we ever before had a head boy who was so generally and unconditionally loved by everyone. In the eyes of his fans he can do no wrong. That gives a man who is evil a great deal of power."

Augusta now also lowered her voice, while Markus kept a close eye on the taproom. "But what can we do? Miss Dumbledore was already quite ... direct in her way of refusing my help. Almost as if she was worried."

"What's that I hear?"

Shocked, all three turned their heads. None other than Tom Riddle suddenly stood behind them at the table and looked very worried. "Miss Dumbledore is worried about something? What is the occasion? Is there something I should know about my girlfriend?"

Ignatius felt his heart beat hard against his ripcage. It was impossible, simply impossible that all three of them had missed Riddle. They all overlooked the room again and again, and at early noon on a Sunday there were never many students in the Three Broomsticks. That Riddle had nevertheless been able to sneak up unnoticed, could only mean one thing: He had deliberately kept himself hidden so he could listen to their conversation. The fact that he looked as if his only concern was that Hermione might be in trouble did not make the situation any better.

Augusta was the first to say, "But of course not, Mr Riddle, unless it is news to you that Miss Dumbledore is your girlfriend. What I mean to say is, she seems to be concerned about the jealousy of her classmates.

Hectically, Ignatius nodded to support the spontaneous lie. "Yes, exactly. She mentioned to Augusta that probably some other students from Slytherin were very envious. And we all know how frighteningly jealous girls can be, don't we?"

Slowly, Tom walked around the table until he came to a halt just behind Augusta and put one hand on her back. "I didn't know Miss Dumbledore had made friends outside her house."

Stoically, his haze rested on Ignatius, and yet he had the feeling that Riddle crackled with suppressed magic. Cold sweat stepped on his forehead. Where did this malicious energy come from, which suddenly seemed to waft around Riddle? Was that the reason Hermione did not wish to interfere?

But before he could even think about it, the moment was over and a warm smile adorned Riddle's face. "I admit, that makes me happy, because you are right: Within Slytherin, my girlfriend has no female friends at the moment. So, I'm very pleased that you, Miss Bargeworthy, want to be her friend."

Augusta moved her chair a little to one side so she could look up to Riddle better. "Oh, believe me, I'm very happy to be her friend, she's such a sweet girl."

The smile grew even wider as Tom elegantly reached for Augusta's hand and led her to his lips. "I would be delighted if the opportunity arose soon to get to know you better, Miss Bargeworthy. Any friend of Hermione is a friend of mine."

Ignatius remarked with a frown that Augusta turned red, while she replied, "You are too kind.

"I insist," Tom emphasised, his smile so radiant and inviting that even Ignatius wondered for a moment whether he had only imagined the malicious energy before. With a short bow to the two gentlemen at the table Tom said goodbye.

"By Merlin," Augusta sighed as soon as he was out of sight. "Tom Riddle knows exactly how to smile at a woman."

"Are you also attracted to him now, just because he grinned stupidly for a moment?" Markus hissed angrily.

Secretly, Ignatius was sure that the anger of his friend arose only from jealousy, but he was glad that Augusta was obviously brought down to earth again. Blushing she returned, "Don't exaggerate now, Mr. Longbottom. I merely note that Miss Dumbledore was right: Riddle's charm is engaging."

Uneasily Ignatius let his gaze wander through the room. "What do you think, did he hear our conversation?"

"I doubt it," Augusta said directly, "Otherwise, surely he would not have remained so friendly. He probably just picked up the last sentence and had to interfere."

"It was still scary how he suddenly appeared behind us," Markus stated. "I mean, I don't have eyes in the back of my head, but I'm sure I had a good view of the room."

"I too," agreed Ignatius. "I could have sworn he appeared only the second he addressed us."

Augusta shook his head in disbelief. "But you both always overdo it the same way. We were just too absorbed in our conversation. What do you think? That Riddle was seriously intentionally invisible to us? What for? So he could eavesdrop on us? Really, for what reason? He practically doesn't know us."

For a long time, the two men were silent, but finally Ignatius gave in. "You are probably right; we are simply paranoid. And Riddle was here at exactly the wrong time."

"We should get back to the real issue: How can we help Hermione when she doesn't want our help?"

oOoOoOo

Icy cold, Tom looked at Avery lying on the ground. He had taken his time with the punishment, let him stew, lulled him into a false sense of security. But today, at their Sunday meeting, he took his henchmen into the Chamber of Secrets to make it clear once and for all how he felt about things that were his.

"I'm disappointed in you, Avery," Tom slowly explained as his gaze wandered between Orion Black, Rufus Lestrange, Peter Nott and Abraxas Malfoy.

Avery lay on the floor, his hands desperately clasped around his throat as if he could use them to fight off the invisible strands cutting off his air supply. It was a pathetic sight.

"From others I do not expect much, but from you, my best friends, who know my secret, who share my visions, from you I expect a great deal," he continued coolly, not caring about the horrified gasping of his henchman. With slow steps he circled around him, without taking his eyes off the other four. "I thought that I don't have to express my thoughts to you, that you all understand immediately what I am planning. But you, Avery, you taught me that I couldn't rely on you so unconditionally after all."

With a flowing movement, Tom knelt down and grabbed Avery by the hair. "What exactly did you think my plans with Miss Dumbledore were, hmm? Did I not make it very clear that she was not to be approached? Did you not hear my warning to Abraxas? What part of my explanations led you to think it would be a good idea to rape Miss Dumbledore?"

Avery's face slowly turned red as he desperately tried to give an answer, but Tom did not care. "You probably weren't thinking at all, were you? You just became a victim of your lust, no more than a pig. What are you?" he addressed the other four schoolmates with a snap of his head. "Are you men or are you animals? Can you not control your desires for a moment? What, should I expect one of you to attack Miss Dumbledore next?"

Everyone shook their heads in a hurry, but Tom was not satisfied. "I am more than unhappy about this incident. You don't understand my plans unless I spell them out for you, which disappoints me."

"With all due respect, my lord," Lestrange interrupted, "That's hardly fair."

"Excuse me?"

It was obvious that Abraxas would have preferred to silence his friend, but Lestrange could not be stopped. Confident and cold, he declared, "We are not like Humphrey. I have no idea what is going on in his brain, but it can't be much. I, for one, understand perfectly what you intend to do, my Lord. Please don't insinuate Humphrey's folly could be ours, too."

Tom almost trembled with anger at Lestrange's arrogance, but he forced himself to remain calm. "Oh? Explain yourself, please."

A disparaging grin flitted across Lestrange's face before he started. "Miss Dumbledore is the niece of our esteemed professor. She also happens to be very powerful and not particularly well disposed toward you. It would be a stroke of genius if you were to succeed in seducing her. It would be a weakness in Dumbledore's armour. No one gains anything if she is disgusted with our group. And Humphrey's actions were not too... inviting. That he did not understand what the plan was is beyond me."

For a long time, Tom looked at the boy in front of him. Rufus Lestrange was definitely the cleverest in this round, he was cunning and had no qualms to be frank with him, Lord Voldemort. He appreciated cleverness; he could use cunning henchmen. Still, he did not like the way Lestrange spoke to him. He might be from an old wizard family, but that did not give him the right to look down on him, the Heir of Slytherin. Under no circumstances should Lestrange be allowed to feel that he was above the other. Or even on the same level as Tom himself.

"Crucio."

Horrified, Abraxas, Orion and Nott took a step back when Lestrange was hit by the curse and sank to the ground. Expressionlessly, Tom held the wand towards his follower as he writhed in pain. It was moments like these that made it difficult for him to appear really calm. Too much he enjoyed the feeling of seeing this arrogant idiot on the ground like a worm.

He was also aware that the practiced way in which he spoke an Unforgivable had to be frightening to the others. He let them practice, asked them to put an Imperius or the Cruciatus on each other, but none succeeded. They all lacked the will. What was so hard about wanting to cause pain to other people?

At last, he broke the curse to get back to Avery. He had fainted by now, but a quick check of his pulse showed that he was still alive. Smiling, Tom lifted the spell while waiting for Lestrange to rise from the ground.

"I am lucky to have an intelligent man like you in my ranks, Lestrange," he then said, full of kindness. It amused him to see how much hatred shone out of Rufus' green eyes. If Lestrange should hate him, he would follow him anyway. Intentionally slow, Tom stepped up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, then he said ice-cold, "I never wish to hear any more talk back from you. Or to be interrupted. Do we understand each other?"

The other three men audibly held their breath while Lestrange seemed to hestitate. But finally, he gave in. "Yes."

"What was that?" Tom hissed.

"Yes, my Lord," Lestrange pressed through clenched teeth.

Satisfied, Tom pulled him into an embrace. "I knew I could count on you. You are a valuable acolyte, Rufus."

"You honour me, my Lord."

Smiling, Tom took a step back again. It was so amusing how they threw themselves into the dust in front of him without any real effort on his side. If he could have, he would have laughed out loud, but there was no time for that.

"I hope you understand why Avery's punishment was necessary, my friends," he finally said, "You know I depend on you. I need you. But I cannot allow my plans to be destroyed by rash actions on your part. Unless I nip such behaviour in the bud, we shall never achieve true greatness."

It did not surprise Tom that Orion Black in particular nodded eagerly at it. He was the youngest in the group and although Orion was no fool, he lacked the pride that the others already had. Maybe Orion was afraid of him, but he would follow him to the ends of the earth. Peter Nott was as inscrutable as ever, Lestrange struggled with the aftermath of the torture curse and Abraxas ... Abraxas.

"You may leave now. Except you, Abraxas, I need your help with Avery."

The other three hurried to leave the chamber. That was another thing that amused Tom again and again: the fear of his followers of the chamber's monster. As if one should be afraid of a basilisk.

"Tom," Abraxas said softly to him, "Why didn't you tell me immediately what happened to Hermione? Why didn't you report Avery? What he did..."

"He didn't do anything," Tom cut his friend off. It was a shame that somehow Hermione had managed to get Abraxas excited about her. A Malfoy was worth so much in this world, but a Malfoy blinded by love could be a threat. Matter-of-factly, he explained, "I cannot afford to lose followers, Abraxas. We are already far too few. And just think what would have happened to Hermione if I had reported it. No matter how innocent she might have been of the incident, rumours would have circulated. Do you want that?"

"No," Abraxas replied slowly, but he was obviously not yet satisfied. As he carefully lifted Avery up to carry him up the steps out of the chamber, he continued, "But that wasn't the reason you kept silent, was it? Is what Rufus said true? Do you really want to take advantage of Hermione?"

Annoyed, Tom closed his eyes and stopped. "Abraxas. We have been friends for so long now. You were the first person I told about my plans. Are you seriously questioning me?"

To Tom's satisfaction he could see sweat forming on Abraxas' forehead, but his friend did not cave in. "I do not wish to question you. I just don't understand what part you want her to play."

"If you weren't my best friend, Abraxas," Tom said slowly, "I wouldn't be so calm about your questions. But since you are my oldest, best, most loyal friend, I'll pretend I didn't hear what you just said."

Without waiting for an answer, Tom continued his way out of the chamber. He did not like the fact that Abraxas was so interested in Hermione. It was nobody's business what he was doing with a girl, and certainly not his followers right to question him. If he did not still depend on everyone being kind to him, he would have done the same with Abraxas as he did with Avery. But he needed the support, for no name in the wizarding world opened as many doors as Malfoy's. He could torture an Avery, even someone like Lestrange. But if he raised his wand against a Malfoy, the support of the others could quickly break away.

For the moment, there was also a more urgent problem: He had to find out exactly what had happened between Augusta Bargeworthy, Ignatius Prewett and Hermione. He doubted that she told them anything of significance, but he could not bear to have pompous Gryffindors sniffing around behind him. He had to do something.

He already knew exactly what.