Nestled into Tom's side, Hermione began to stir. Her eyes slowly flickered open, wincing as they were met by a blinding ray of light filtering into the room through the glass of the balcony door. With a slight groan, she nuzzled her face further into the firm chest that had served as her pillow to shield her eyes.
Unfortunately, her pillow then began to move beneath her, as Tom chuckled. "Good morning to you too, my little vampire."
Grabbing one of the many actual pillows that lay scattered around them across the king-sized bed, she used it to hit him in the face, causing his chuckles to turn into full fledged laughter.
Ever since she had come back from traveling with her grandfather, she had found it difficult to readjust back to a regular sleep schedule. It took her a while to fall asleep each night, which wasn't at all helped by the fact that Tom was insatiable, leaving her feeling groggy and still tired come morning. She knew she would get her body used to it again eventually, but until then it was a struggle.
Tom had since started teasing her that she had spent so much time with her grandfather that she was becoming like a vampire herself. Even dared to ask whether she had been bitten while she was gone. Hermione wanted so badly to be annoyed at him, but she knew she couldn't. Not when he seemed so happy. It was useless to even try.
Over a month had passed since Hermione returned to Tom, and though she kept a close watch over him, or at least as close as she could without drawing too much suspicion, she had yet to find anything worth concern. He was either trying to keep a low profile around her, or he was just that good at hiding things from her. She wasn't quite sure what to think.
Still, she didn't allow herself to be taken too off guard.
Disentangling herself from the blanket, she dragged herself out of bed, slipping into her robe and slippers before making her way over to the source of sunlight. She had just finished fastening the belt around her when she pulled back the doors and stepped out onto their small yet private balcony, moving around the chairs to go and lean against the railing.
Paris was every bit as wonderful as Druella and Rosaline had always bragged it was. The famous Eiffel Tower could be seen at a distance from their hotel. Combined with the sun that was still rising in the sky behind, it made for a breathtaking scenery. And the smell… Oh, the smell… It was absolutely divine. The smell of freshly baked pastries that wafted through the air from a nearby cafe made her mouth water.
"I say we go out and get some fresh croissants for breakfast," she said longingly
Coming up behind her, now dressed in a pair of pants, he wound his arms around her waist, his hands snaking their way beneath her robe to run over the bare skin of her stomach. "As you wish," he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Shall we meet up with Cygnus and Druella there."
She nodded, leaning into his touch. "Yes, I'd like that.
Half an hour later, after they managed to pry their hands off of one another, they headed out of the hotel to do exactly that.
Being the first to arrive at the cafe, they selected an adequately sized table out on the sidewalk, browsing through their menus while they waited. Cygnus and Druella arrived a bit later, looking no worse for wear, with their two daughters in tow; two-year old Bellatrix walking beside her father, who was struggling to keep hold of her hand, while two-week old Andromeda slept in her mother's arms.
The family of four spotted them almost at once.
"Aunt Mione!" Pulling free from her father's grasp, Bella bolted straight towards Hermione, all but jumping into her arms.
"Hello, Bella," Hermione greeted her with a warm smile. "How are you liking Paris so far? Are you being good for your parents?"
She nodded her head. "I'm always good!"
Cygnus scoffed as he pulled out a chair for his wife, making sure she was seated before taking a seat for himself. "I'd hardly say that, considering how you lit the muggle hotel porter on fire."
Hermione's eyes widened. "She did what now?"
With a tired sigh, Cygnus began to tell them the tale of their chaotic arrival at their hotel. Bellatrix had mistakenly thought that the muggle man was trying to steal their luggage and lit him on fire as a result. Luckily there was a candle stand not too far behind him, which the muggles assumed to be the culprit rather than their young daughter.
"Muggles are bad," Bella said with a humph as she crossed her little arms in front of her.
Hermione shook her head, having absolutely no trouble believing the story at all. It sounded exactly like the kind of thing Bellatrix would do. She almost expected the toddler to start cackling maniacally.
"That sounds more like your grandmother talking," she said. "Muggles aren't bad. Not all of them anyway."
Druella chose to clear her throat just then, changing the topic to avoid the impending argument. "Shall we order? I'm so excited for you all to try some of the local delicacies."
Sometimes Hermione forgot that her friends were purebloods, and that they didn't generally share her views on muggles. It was sad to think that they probably wouldn't even be sitting here with her if they knew the truth about her true blood status. Could they even be considered true friends in that regard?
She wasn't sure about much of anything anymore.
A muggle waiter soon came to take their order, distracting everyone from the awkwardness that had developed. Feeling particularly hungry that morning, she ordered herself a fresh croissant, a cup of coffee, and a strawberry eclair for desert.
"I've heard that you've been receiving a lot of job offers since you arrived back in England" Cygnus stated. "Have you found any that interest you yet?"
Hermione nodded her head, setting her coffee cup down, well enough away so that Bellatrix couldn't try and grab it.
"As a matter of fact, I have. Nicholas Flamel wrote to me, offering an apprenticeship with him. I plan to go visit him to accept the proposition in person before I leave."
Druella nearly choked on her tea. "I'm sorry, but did you say Nicholas Flamel, as in the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone?"
Hermione nodded. "The same. I met him back in fifth year at one of Slughorn's dinner parties. I've been a long time admirer of his work."
"What's the Philosopher's Stone?" Cygnus asked.
"Did you even listen to a word the teachers said back at Hogwarts, or were you too busy goofing off to pay attention?" Druella fixed her husband with a hard stare. "The Philosopher's Stone is legendary, possessing the power to turn any metal into gold as well as producing the Elixir of Life."
This piqued Tom's interest. "Ah yes, I've read about that. It supposedly makes the drinker immortal, ensuring that you'll never die."
Hermione didn't like the look in his eyes. It was the look he got when he was planning. "That is actually a common misconception," she corrected him. "The Elixir of Life doesn't actually prevent you from dying. It just extends your lifespan. It doesn't stop you from aging either, from what I've seen."
Tom nodded in understanding, the look passing quickly from his eyes.
They chatted for a while longer as they ate. Hermione got to hold her youngest goddaughter for a while, handing Bellatrix off to Tom, who protested against the idea, but ended up taking her anyway. He tried to hold her at a distance, but Bella was determined to crawl all over him, playing with his hair and the buttons of his shirt.
Shooting her a desperate look, he mouthed the words, "help me."
Hermione giggled and shook her head, much too content with the adorable baby in her arms to move.
Eventually though, Andromeda woke up and demanded feeding, forcing Hermione to part with her and hand her back to her mother, thus freeing Tom of Bellatrix and her grasp on his hair. Bellatrix always did have an obsession with Tom. She only hoped it wouldn't grow to the extreme that it had originally.
"Well, we'd better get going," Tom said to Cygnus, straightening out his hair as he rose from his seat.
Both women turned to look at their men in question.
"I've called a meeting for the Knights of Walpurgis, seeing as we're all in the same country at the moment," Tom explained.
"And why aren't we invited?" Druella asked. "From what I recall, Hermione and I are members as well."
Druella had taken the words right out of Hermione's mouth. She too wanted to know this. She had always attended the meetings before, though the last real meeting had been right before they graduated. It was strange, especially considering the fact that Tom had claimed her as his Queen.
"It's no big deal really. The meeting itself is more of a cover up for Raphael's Bachelor Party," Cygnus explained with a shrug, glancing over at Tom out of the corner of his eyes.
Tom nodded in affirmation "We won't be gone long. A couple of hours at most. I'll see you back at the hotel room," he promised as he bent down to press a quick kiss to her lips.
And with that, the two men left, disappearing into the crowded streets of Paris.
Neither of the women spoke for the first few minutes after left, silently sharing looks of suspicion.
"I thought that Bachelor Parties took place in the evening," Druella remarked, shifting baby Andromeda from one side to the other as she fixed her blouse back into place.
"They usually do."
Something was definitely up, and it gave her a bad feeling. A part of her wanted to disregard it as nothing and enjoy some quality one on one time with her friend, but the other part of her knew that she couldn't afford to just ignore the matter. It was her job to keep an eye on him. For all she knew, the world as she knew it could be hanging on this secret meeting.
"I'll stay here with the kids," Druella seemed to read her mind. "You go find out what those sneaky men are up to."
Hermione smiled in thanks to Druella.
Slipping into the crowd, it didn't take her long to realize that Tom and Cygnus were already far out of sight. This didn't hinder her though, as she muttered a quick tracking spell under her breath, watching as gold dust swirled around her, revealing two pairs of gold footprints in front of her. She was on the right path.
She followed the trail of footprints down several streets, winding in and out among the locals, who thankfully seemed none the wiser about the gold dust. Eventually the trail led her to the Lestrange Apartment Complex, a massive, posh looking building that looked more like a chateau.
Peering inside the glass doors, she made sure that she didn't recognize anyone inside before entering. At first glance, the lobby looked normal, enough so to convince a muggle perhaps, but on second look, the paintings on the wall started to move, and the grand piano in the corner was performing Debussy on its own.
"Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?" asked the woman at reception.
Her beauty was startlingly reminiscent of Fleur Delacour's. Her facial structure itself was different, but she had the same silvery-blonde hair. She wondered if the two women were somehow related. Either way, judging from the way that the young porter was drooling at her, neglecting his own responsibilities, she had to say that she was probably at least part Veela.
"Je suis ici pour voir M. Lestrange," Hermione replied in fluent French. Now more than ever, she was grateful that the Malfoy's had taught her French. It came in handy during situations such as this. "Pouvez-vous me dire quelle chambre est la sienne?"
"Oui, vous le trouverez dans la chambre 107, au troisième niveau."
"Merci."
Making her way over to the elevator, she stepped inside and pressed the button to take her to the third floor, disillusioning herself almost as soon as the door closed. The elevator ride was surprisingly short and quite pleasant, especially when compared to the lifts in the Ministry. She much preferred the muggle contraption, as it didn't make her feel ill as a result.
An older couple was waiting on the other side when the door opened, peering inside in confusion. They didn't see her. Carefully she slipped out before the door could close again, starting down the corridor, counting the numbers on the doors as she went.
104… 105… 106…
Ah, Room 107!
She knew that it would be unlikely for her to sneak in without being noticed, so she decided upon a different method; a Hearing Amplifying Charm. That way, she wouldn't have to go in, or even press her ear to the door.
It was a bit overwhelming at first, what with being able to hear what was going on inside every other room as well, but after a while she managed to drown everyone else out, focusing in on the voices that were coming from the room in front of her.
She could hear the sounds of laughter coming from inside, along with glasses clinking together. They were making a toast.
"To Raphael's impending marriage!" An unfamiliar voice announced. "May your union be long and beneficial."
"Let us hope zat your brrroad is actually capable of prrroducing male heirrr, opposed to Cygnus's vife, who can't stop popping out girrrls." The sheer crudeness of the thick russian accent could only belong to Antonin Dolohov.
Hermione scowled. The nerve of that vile, selfish, pig headed jerk! It was a good thing that Druella hadn't come with her. Hearing that probably would have brought her to tears. It wasn't her fault that she hadn't given the Black's a male heir. And the fact that Cygnus wasn't even attempting to stand up for his wife… It was going to be hard not to want to strangle him the next time they met.
"Now, tell us why you 'ave called us here, Tom. I assume eet wasn't just to party," this had to be either Evan or Raphael.
"You are indeed correct in that statement, Evan," Tom began to speak. "As you may know, I have been hard at work within the British Ministry for many months now, trying to gain favor with the current Minister for Magic. It has not been easy to gain his trust, especially with outside forces attempting to interfere…"
There was a brief pause. Without even seeing what was going on, Hermione somehow knew that Tom had stopped to glare at Abraxas.
"As a result, he no longer trusts me. I read his mind to be sure. He thinks I'm too young and reckless, that I don't know what I'm doing."
Cries of protest sounded throughout the apartment. The Knights were less than pleased by this turn of events.
"Don't be alarmed. I have devised a different strategy," Tom silenced them. "Seeing as diplomacy failed, I say we take a bit more radical approach, and instead of waiting around for the next election, we take what we want by force."
Hermione listened with bated breath, waiting for him to elaborate further. What did he mean by that? What did he have planned? Was this the backup plan he had mentioned to her in the diary? Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.
"Gentlemen, I propose to you, that from this day forth, we will no longer be called the Knights of Walpurgis, but rather the Death Eaters. Under my orders, I would have you cause chaos and instill fear throughout the wizarding world. And I, already known as the hero who vanquished the mighty Grindelwald, would offer to eliminate these fiends for them. This would in turn earn me the praise and respect I need to achieve my goals."
Hermione felt a shiver run through her. The Death Eaters… That was a name she hadn't heard in a long time… A name that she had hoped never to hear again… It was happening again. History was repeating itself, not exactly the same as before, but still happening regardless.
The idea was met with mixed reactions from the knights, soon to be death eaters. There were some like Dolohov who jumped at the prospect of causing trouble. However, there were also those who were hesitant about the idea.
"I don't know, Tom," Cygnus spoke up at last. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the plan is brilliant, but wouldn't it be risky for us? If anyone found out, it would completely ruin our reputations, as well as that of our families."
"You would all be anonymous, your identities hidden beneath robes and full face masks. I would, of course, ensure that none of your names are connected to any of it, allowing you to carry on your ordinary lives in peace. No one outside this room need ever know."
This seemed to be good enough for them, as no further protests were raised. They then proceeded to make another toast before slipping into more laid back conversation.
With nothing more of interest left to hear, Hermione chose this moment to leave, fleeing down the hallway she had come and back into the elevator, lifting the disillusionment on herself. It took every ounce of will power within herself to remain calm as she stepped out into the lobby, so as not to arouse the suspicion of the receptionist.
No sooner was she out, then she took off running and didn't slow down until the Lestrange Apartment Complex was completely out of sight. Her initial instinct was to find a quick way back to England, perhaps a portkey or something, to go and warn Dumbledore and her grandfather. However, as she stopped to calm down and get a grip on her erratic state of mind, she realized that she couldn't. It would take too long to portkey there and back, alarming Tom in the process when he arrived back at the hotel to find her missing.
For now, she needed to rejoin Druella at the cafe. Did she dare tell her what she had heard? Druella was sure to ask, seeing as that was the whole reason she had gone in the first place. Her friend had been just as suspicious as her about the men's behavior.
After some thought, she resolved to tell her at least the basics, that Tom wanted to send her husband out on a dangerous mission that could potentially ruin their family's reputation. Druella had just as much a right to know as she did, and she figured that perhaps she could try and encourage Cygnus to refuse.
One thing was certain, though. She couldn't hold off much longer… She would have to confront Tom soon…
After Rosaline's wedding, she decided. She would approach him about it when they were back home, once she notified Dumbledore and her grandfather. They needed to be warned before she did anything else. Also, she was curious to see what would happen. Who would join and who would back out? She hoped that not all of them would be so foolish.
