It was Friday again. Hermione experienced the past days more like being in a trance, like a doll pulled on strings that worked but did not really perceive anything. And now it was Friday again.
A week had passed since she subjected Augusta to the ritual, a whole week had passed during which she maintained the effects, controlled Augusta as well as felt the strange side effects on herself. Tom did not force her to do anything to Augusta again, but the connection was still there, and as she herself felt it, Hermione was sure that her poor victim was aware of it as well.
Slowly she walked up the steps from the dungeons to the Great Hall. She had the feeling that something would happen today. Tom was too calm after talking to her about Abraxas. And Abraxas also behaved too normal, as if Tom had not said a word to him. It was just disturbing.
She just turned into the hallway to the Great Hall when someone grabbed her by the arm and stopped her from moving on.
"Miss Bargeworthy!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise when she noticed the younger student.
"Miss Dumbledore," Augusta whispered frantically as she looked up and down the corridor as if to make sure that no one was there. "I have been waiting here for you all morning. Please, you must stop this. Whatever it is, this... ritual that you did. Please. I can't stand this any longer. I'll do whatever you want, just end it."
Hermione wanted to hold the girl in her arms and comfort her, but she knew she could not afford to fall out of her role. Not if she really wanted to keep the Gryffindors away from her forever. Emotionlessly, she returned, "Nothing happened. Except for the weekend, I left you completely alone."
"But you could," Augusta hissed desperately, "I know that you could force me to do the worst things again at any time, and knowledge is enough. The uncertainty of when you might strike again... I can't go on. Please."
Hermione stared at her blankly. If she could decide on her own, she would have ended it all long ago. It was obvious that Augusta was close to tears, as her lower lip trembled, but she could not give in.
"What's going on here?"
Horrified, Hermione winced. "Abraxas!"
"Good morning, Hermione," he greeted her kindly, not realising she flinched. "And who is your friend here?"
She took a deep breath before she replied with a firm look and a snide tone of voice, "Miss Bargeworthy is not my friend. She has behaved inappropriately towards me on several occasions, so Tom has given her a punishment, and now she is trying to make me show mercy with her tears."
"That… I have not," Augusta said, but she seemed unable to find words for her obvious anger. With tears in her eyes, she finally squeezed out, "You are viler than anyone here, Miss Dumbledore. You're such a mean, cowardly, scheming person. It's a disgrace you're related to Professor Dumbledore!"
Before Hermione could react, Abraxas took a bold step forward to stand before Augusta and said, "You've said quite enough, Miss Bargeworthy. If you have nothing of consequence to say to Hermione, then best keep silent altogether. Since I do not know what is the problem between you, I will not comment, but be sure: One more insult to Hermione and I will see to it that Tom increases your punishment!"
Augusta stared at him with his mouth open. Hermione could not blame her for feeling unjustly treated and would have preferred to tell the whole world what had really happened to her.
Soothingly, she laid a hand on Abraxas' arm. "Come, Abraxas. There is no point in getting so upset over her. And to you, Miss Bargeworthy, I can only advise once again: Stay away from me. Your punishment will not be eternal, but if you continue to harass me or Tom, I cannot guarantee anything."
With this she linked arms with Abraxas, forcing him to go with her to the Great Hall. She was about to enter at his side when she suddenly realised that it might be better not to be seen by Tom like that.
"Abraxas," she whispered softly and stopped. "I... I don't know how to say this, but... but maybe you should go in before me, alone?"
For a long time, Abraxas just looked at her, his eyes shining down on her, their arms still interlocked. Hermione withstood the gaze, answered him openly, hoping that he understood that she had nothing against him personally.
Finally, he let go of her arm and put a hand on her cheek instead. "It's because of Tom, isn't it?"
She swallowed. Had Tom said anything to Abraxas, perhaps? Unconsciously, she leaned into the touch, closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth of his hand. This Malfoy was such a wonderful person that she could not understand how Lucius Malfoy could grow up to be so obnoxious.
"Tom is jealous," Abraxas said quietly, "I think I have understood that by now. I would never have thought it, but ... you seem to have aroused really deep feelings in him and now he is very much afraid of losing you. He doesn't even trust me anymore."
For a moment Hermione remained in the tender, actually so innocent touch, then she opened her eyes and took a step back. "You are a good man, Abraxas. But I belong to Tom now. Maybe it's better if we... if we just keep our distance for now."
"Yes, it would be better."
They were both startled and spun around. Leaning against the closed door of the Great Hall was the one they were talking about: Tom Riddle, arms crossed over his chest, looking expressionlessly at the scene in front of him.
"I thought I made myself clear, Hermione. Obviously, you haven't learned at all... That's a pity."
"What's your problem, Tom?" Abraxas angrily demanded to know.
Hermione could not believe her new friend was so direct and confrontational with a man he must have known was dangerous. She tried to put a reassuring hand on his arm, but he just shook it off. "No, Hermione, I have had enough now once and for all. I want to know what's going on."
Hermione swallowed. That was probably the last thing Tom wanted to hear right now. With a queasy feeling, she looked up at him, only to find her suspicions confirmed: A serious mask lay on his face, but she could clearly see the fire in his eyes.
"My dear, faithful Abraxas... It's not that complicated," Tom finally replied, the face still serious, while the tone of voice carried amusement. Fake amusement, which served only as a cover for his almost exhausted patience. "You are my best friend. Hermione is my girlfriend. I appreciate the fact that you two are close. I do not appreciate people trying to steal things that are mine."
Abraxas turned pale, but Hermione was sure it was due more to anger than fear. With clenched fists he returned, "You know exactly what I mean. When Hermione was new here, you were anything but benevolent towards her. You fought all the time and you didn't like the fact that I made friends with her. I'm sorry to speak so openly in front of her, but you force me to: You've clearly forbidden me to like her. Now she is your girlfriend and you expect me to be nice to her again, yet still are dissatisfied with me. What's this about?"
Silence fell over them while Hermione searched desperately for a way out. The more Abraxas said, the deeper he dug his own grave. And what was even worse, if Tom decided to punish him for his behaviour, she could not intervene. Her thoughts raced without her being able to think of a solution. Strained, she tried to bring back the clarity that had come over her immediately after the ritual. She still knew that she had felt as if she could suddenly perceive the world more sharply.
And suddenly she knew exactly what she had to do.
This was not about Abraxas; this was about her. Tom may have been disappointed in his best friend, if he was capable of feeling that way, but in reality, he was irrelevant at the moment.
Slowly Hermione straightened up, squeezed her shoulders and looked firmly at Tom, a playful smile on her lips. "Sorry, Tom. I shouldn't have done that."
Surprise at her tone of voice was clearly reflected on Abraxas' face, while Tom himself just turned minimally towards her and with a raised eyebrow indicated that she should continue speaking. She took a step towards him so that she could put one hand on his upper arm. "I knew you were watching us. Otherwise I never would've gotten this close to Abraxas. "
Hermione sensed more than she saw the very person next to her flinch and look at her in horror. Still intent on looking Tom straight in the eye and not giving in, she added, "Don't be angry with him. He had no choice."
If she had not observed him so intensely, she probably would have missed the slight twitch, but this way she saw exactly how Tom's eyes widened in surprise for a moment. Then his gaze slowly wandered over to Abraxas, who by now could only stare in bewilderment. Hermione took another step towards Tom to hook into his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. She prayed inwardly that her little charade would have the desired effect. Tom's silence made her nervous, but she knew she could not let anything show, could not try to look for a reaction in his face. She had to stand here, nestled against him, confident, determined.
"So, you like to play, eh, dear?"
"Was I wrong?"
"Depends on the side effects. Abraxas?"
Hermione could see clearly that her friend no longer understood the world - and she could not blame him. There she stood next to Tom Riddle, nestled against him, smiling as if nothing ever happened, and chatted cheerfully about something that affected him on an emotional level.
"I ... what?" was all that the blonde Slytherin brought out as his gaze wandered back and forth between the two of them, confused and a little hurt.
With a forgiving smile, Tom clarified his question, "Are you angry with Hermione and me now because the lady has been playing you a bit?
As if to underline his words, Tom put his arm around her and pulled her closer. Hermione inhaled his scent. There was something seductive in this scent, which did not smell like artificial parfum, but simply like Tom Riddle. She closed her eyes and leaned her back against his strong chest.
He was an intelligent man in every aspect, not only educated but also cunning. He could see through people and be inscrutable himself. He was so much what she would wish for in a partner - if only there was not his unchanging future. It was a strange thought that came to her as she cuddled up in his arm, waiting for Abraxas to say the hopefully right words: Tom would really protect her from any other man. She was no longer in danger from anyone but him. Nothing like Avery would ever happen again, Tom would never let it happen.
Was she going mad? Did the ritual obscure her vision instead of clearing it?
But before she could really pursue this thought, Abraxas finally spoke the redeeming words. "I could never really be angry with you, Tom, you know that. I may not always understand you, and I am sure you keep secrets from me, but your loyalty to the House of Slytherin, your ... openness to ... us, your best friends, all this is more than enough proof for me that you are a decent man in whom I can rightly place my trust. Hermione, on the other hand..."
He broke off. As if in a trance, Hermione opened her eyelids a little to look at him with her eyes still half closed. He swallowed.
"I cannot deal lightly with a woman's tears," he whispered as he looked at her insistently. "If you cried as part of a game, I must doubt your sincerity."
Equally quiet and unable to keep the sadness from her voice, Hermione replied, "You would do well to question my sincerity."
Tom moved behind her to put a hand on Abraxas' shoulder. "Women. They are the real ruler among us snakes. Don't be down. Go to breakfast and have a strong cup of tea, my friend, it will take your mind off things."
With a last, wounded look at Hermione, Abraxas turned around and walked alone through the door into the Great Hall.
No sooner had the heavy wooden door fallen shut than Tom spun around and pressed Hermione against the wall with an icy cold expression on his face. "So? What was that all about? A game? Really? Do you think I believe you?"
Slowly, Hermione shook her head. "No. But Abraxas believes it, and that's all that matters, isn't it?"
For a moment, Tom stared at her blankly, then burst out laughing and took a step back. "Very good, Hermione, really. Impressive."
With as much dignity as she could muster, she pulled the book bag over her shoulder and said, "Yeah, laugh it up. It's all a game to you, really."
Shaking his head, he patted her on the cheek. "Of course it is. Did you really think I would let my girl seduce another man, and my best friend at that? I told you that you were mine, and I meant it. Every step you take, you take only because I let you.
"So, what now?"
"Well," Tom explained, and suddenly there was that dark undertone in his voice again, sending a shiver down Hermione's spine. "Now let's get this school day over with and on the weekend, we'll see how we punish you for your misdeeds."
He took her by the hand and entered the Great Hall with her. The goose bumps remained all over her body as they walked to the table. The tone of his voice had sounded dangerous, he had proclaimed disaster and all her instincts were screaming at her to run away.
And yet. The goose bumps had another cause. For there was something else, very deep inside her, which almost bellowed impatiently when he announced a punishment to her. Tom had already spoken several times about wanting to free her innermost being. And Hermione was not so sure anymore if there was not really something there, something that lay in chains that better not be broken.
Was she going mad? Was she lost so soon?
