Out of breath, Hermione leaned against a tree. She ran all the way from the dungeons up the stairs and now down the path to the village. Panting, she ran her fingers through her hair. Before she could talk to Markus, she had to know what had happened between Tom and Augusta. She simply had to try to re-establish the connection. With her eyes closed, she concentrated on the feeling of power she still felt.
"I'm doing you a favour with this, my beauty."
Tom's sweet voice came to Hermione's ear. In horror, she looked at the wand he held out at her - at Augusta.
"So, you will never know it was me. You will never know that it was your beloved head boy who did this to you. You can go on loving me without having to associate me with your pain. Isn't that great?"
In shock, Hermione ended the connection again. So, Tom did indeed intend to cast a memory charm on Augusta, as he had said in the morning. but he would not let her forget the whole thing. The memory of her rape would remain. Again, nausea rose in Hermione. She helped him. She was at least as much to blame as Tom. Trembling, she pressed her clenched fist to her mouth.
But she had no time to sink into her self-pity and hatred. She had to move on. Had to go to Markus. Powerfully she pushed herself off the tree trunk and ran on to the village.
oOoOoOo
"Mr Longbottom!"
Without waiting for his reaction, Hermione sat down in the chair before him. He was still sitting at the table, both glasses of butterbeer still intact. He seemed absent, but when she slapped the tabletop with her flat hand, he looked up.
"Miss Dumbledore."
"Has Riddle come out in the last few minutes?"
His eyes darkened. "Yes, just now. He had this grin on his face, like I wanted to hit him. He was..."
"I know!" Hermione's interrupted his angry stammering, "I know. Mr. Longbottom, please listen to me. I need your help."
Slowly, the young man straightened up. His expression changed from distant to sceptical and suspicious. It was obvious that Ignatius and Augusta must have talked with him about how she had behaved last, but she could not be dissuaded. Augusta needed help.
"You come to me?" he hissed to her. "Do you really think I am still ready to help you? I have no idea what happened, but..."
Impatiently, Hermione spoke to him again, "This is not about me, it's about Augusta."
This actually silenced him for a moment before he followed up with a threatening tone of voice, "Augusta? Do you know your boyfriend has just taken her up to a room with him?"
Slowly, Hermione nodded. "Yes. Yes, I know all too well. And no matter how it may have seemed to you, she didn't go with him willingly."
Markus just snorted. "Of course she did. What girl could possibly resist the charms of this perfect gentleman?"
Obviously furious, Markus got up, but Hermione did not let up. She grabbed him hard by the wrist. "Mr. Longbottom... Augusta needs you. Hear me out!"
Annoyed, he tore himself from her grasp, but to her relief he let himself sink back into his chair. "I'm listening."
Once more, Hermione took a deep breath before uttering the words she had thought of on the way here. She had to be careful. "Tom Riddle has power over me. All the cruel things I do come from him. I was not voluntarily dismissive and disgusting to Augusta and Ignatius, I did it to convince Tom that I am like him - and to convince your friends that I am not worth their attention. I... I have... had... control of Augusta. I forced her to give herself to Tom. She never wanted that. Don't you understand, Mr Longbottom? Augusta's not blinded by him. You talked to her and Ignatius about Tom, didn't you? Augusta wouldn't be involved with him. That... that was my doing."
Markus' eyes went blank while she was talking. Impatiently, she took his hands. "Don't you understand? Tom Riddle raped Augusta. And right now, she is lying upstairs in the room, with no memory of anything that has happened over the past week. All she remembers is that... a man had been making love to her."
Finally, Markus came back to life. He returned her grasp hard, while his face became murderous. "If what you say is true, Riddle will pay for it!"
Hermione shook her head vigorously. "No. You can't. Don't you understand? Augusta went with him willingly because I forced her to. She gave herself to him willingly. Enjoyed it. Not to the end, but... before."
The grip of his hands on her wrists became iron hard. "Then we must tell the headmaster that she was under someone else's control."
"But it was me!" Hermione returned insistently. "I have cursed her. Tom made me do it, yes. But... there's no proof. Tom will deny everything. He will say that Augusta seduced him, that he could not know... that she enjoyed it and he did not know that she was under someone else's influence. And just think," she quickly added, as Mark opened his mouth to reply, "if there should be the slightest suspicion that Augusta was somehow voluntarily involved ... she would be ruined."
His mouth closed again. Hermione could see his jaws grinding as he thought hard. She waited for his answer with bated breath. He just had to trust her. He had to.
"Why can't you just say Riddle made you do it?"
She swallowed. Tears welled up inside her and she could not help herself. She said in a trembling voice, "I just... I can't. There are... reasons. Believe me, I wish I could take Tom to Azkaban. I would give anything, even my life, if I could. But... I can't."
The desperation must have been clearly audible in her voice, because suddenly the grip loosened and Markus stroked her hand with his thumb. "I have no idea what he has on you, but it must be serious. It seems that Ignatius was right from the beginning: You need help, and Riddle is more dangerous than we can imagine.
Relief washed over Hermione's whole body, breaking the last dams she had built against her tears. Without worrying about the steady stream, she nodded and continued, "Tom is ... infinitely more dangerous. We can't hurt him right now, he is...too smart. But I promise you that I will make sure that he gets his justice. He will suffer. I will dedicate my life to this one mission."
"What can I do to help?"
The tone of voice, the way he looked at her, everything about him reminded Hermione of Neville at that moment. The Neville who had unexpectedly appeared at Hogwarts as leader of the rebellion. That Neville who, despite all his fear and all his doubts and uncertainties, believed so much in the good side, in Harry and his task, that he had outgrown himself. Markus was really his grandfather. And she was sure that he would succeed in healing the wounds of Augusta.
"First, we must go to Augusta. She needs us. You."
With a determined expression on his face Markus rose and Hermione followed him to show the way up to the room. Their nausea increased. She did not want to face Augusta, did not want to see her. Trembling, she climbed the stairs in front of Markus.
Arriving at the door to the room, Hermione turned to him once more. "Mr Longbottom, I... I don't know what condition Augusta is in now. Every person reacts differently to such traumatic experiences, but ... there is a high probability that her basic trust in other people has been deeply shaken. Especially in men. I don't know how close you were to each other before, but I'm afraid she will find every proximity to you, every touch, unbearable. A man has taken her body against her will to enjoy himself and as much as she knows that you will never do the same, her heart will still feel fear. Give her time. Show her that she is a kind person, but do not touch her unless she comes to you."
With a serious expression, the Gryffindor looked at her. Only the trembling of his clenched fists revealed how tense he was at that moment, but his gaze was completely calm, attentive, concentrated. "I will do everything I can to help Augusta. And if that means keeping my distance for the time being... I will do that too."
She took a deep breath, tried to ignore the icy cold feeling in her stomach, then opened the door resolutely. The scene she was presented with was completely different than she had expected.
Augusta stood fully dressed with her back to the door and seemed to look out of the window absentmindedly, her hands intertwined in front of her stomach. Only when the heavy steps of Markus behind Hermione became audible, she was torn from her rigidity and turned around. Her eyes looked empty towards her two schoolmates.
"Marcus," she muttered, "and... Miss Dumbledore."
With two quick steps, Markus approached her, but immediately Hermione grabbed him by the arm and held him back. Inaudible to Augusta, she whispered to him, "Don't be too hasty. Don't rush things."
A jolt went through his body as he struggled to suppress his urge to simply hold Augusta in his arms. Finally, he nodded and Hermione let go of him.
"Markus," Augusta said again, this time in an almost dreamy tone of voice. "I always thought you might propose to me before you graduated. Perhaps I should have encouraged you more, then you would certainly have done it already. But now it is too late. Now you can never take me as your wife."
There was laughter, but it did not sound cheerful. Augusta's gaze was directed to the corner of the room, her head tilted while she giggled humourlessly. The emptiness in her eyes gave way to an infinite sadness.
Impulsively Markus took another step forward. "What are you talking about? I don't know about your feelings, but if you want me, by Merlin, then be sure that I will marry you.
Again, Augusta laughed. "Oh, Markus. Dear, sweet, naive Markus. I cannot become your wife any more, for... another man has already made me... his."
Hermione could hear clearly how hard it was for Augusta to say those words. The cheerful, cynical, dismissive wall she had built served only one purpose: to protect her childish, hopeful soul. If she herself said that she was now worthless, no other person would do so and she was protected. Her shoulders sank down. That was not healthy.
"Miss Bargeworthy," she started it, but was immediately interrupted.
"Ah, Miss Dumbledore! I shouldn't be surprised to see you here with Markus, of all people. After all the hatred you've shown me lately... And your attempts to make advances to Ignatius. Do you want poor Mr. Longbottom now too? Well, I can't stop you. Go on. He's all yours."
Affected, Hermione lowered her gaze. What memories did Tom give to the poor girl? What exactly did she remember? Unconsciously, she bit her lip as she thought desperately about how to get to Augusta's wounded heart.
It was Markus who was the first recover. "I know what happened to you, Augusta. Of course, I wasn't here, but ... I saw the smug expression on the face of R... the guy who did this to you. I know what you're talking about. And believe me, that is no reason for me to give up on you."
With big eyes, Augusta turned to Markus in slow motion. "You... you actually know?"
"Yes," he whispered, still clenching his fists and trembling all over his body. "And if I had realised what happened faster ... believe me, the guy would have ... he would have received his just punishment. But now he is ... he is long gone. I'm so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am."
For long seconds there was silence in the room while Markus looked trembling on the floor and Augusta stared at him in disbelief. Hermione wished she could just vanish into thin air to give the two of them some privacy, but she did not dare to move either, as she did not want to draw attention to herself. With bated breath she waited for something to happen.
And then, without warning, Augusta sank to her knees, slapping her hands in front of her face and burst into a heart-rending sob.
"I don't know how this could happen," she uttered between two sobs. "I don't even know who he was. He just smiled at me and I took his hand and ... then we were here ... and he was suddenly so cold ... and then again so tender. And then... Merlin, help me... I don't even remember. There was just pain. And he moaned. He didn't even look at me, like he didn't care who I was. as if I were just a thing. I tried to push him away, I really did. I tried, I hit him and... but he was just stronger. He was just stronger..."
Hermione saw how Augusta reached out for Markus and how he grabbed her hand, pressed it firmly to and stroked her palm with his thumb to calm her down. Augusta did not flinch from his touch, but she did not move any further towards him either. Carefully, as quietly as possible, Hermione moved towards the exit. Markus heard her step out and looked up at her once more. A short nod was all she needed. He had the situation under control. He would do everything Augusta needed now. She could leave.
As quickly as she could, Hermione hurried down the stairs, out of the inn into the cold of the autumn day. She committed a crime today in the name of her mission that she could not make amends for. Tom Riddle had her where he wanted her, at his feet, obeying his every command.
And whether she liked it or not, his power, the power he promised her, himself, everything about him excited her. She reacted to him like a gummy bear thrown in potassium chlorate: She caught fire, danced and hopped and tried desperately to escape, and in the end she just melted away.
But as scary as this circumstance was to her, the experience with Augusta had taught her one thing: She could no longer stand idly by. If she only ever tried to bend to his will in order not to turn him against her, she could only lose. She would go to him right now and tell him that she would cast a Finite to end the ritual and cut Augusta's bonds. She would prove to him that she had not lost her fighting spirit just because she had gotten involved in his game.
But first of all, she needed a protected place in the forest to throw up.
