TWENTY-TWO
Tuesday, 23 September 1944
When they had returned, they went straight to the library to find Riddle already waiting for them. Their exchange had been brief. Had he still been angry with her, he was doing well to hide it. He had left immediately after letting her peruse his notes and make copies of her own. When he left, they continued to linger in the library to work on their assignments.
Whether there was a meeting with Riddle and his crew or not, Malfoy never went and Riddle never asked.
Sunday they had taken their walk around the Black Lake after breakfast. They exchanged small talk and stories about their childhood and by the time lunch came around, Hermione couldn't keep the smile from her face. For the rest of the day and their time together in class on Monday, she knew they had crossed a line they couldn't come back from. That in the span of a few short weeks, they had gone from enemies to more than friends.
Their fake relationship was starting to feel very real.
And she didn't hate the idea.
Tuesday after Defense, they found themselves in their usual spot in the library. Malfoy was sitting at her side as she poured over her notes from their meeting with Gilletta. He was reading over her shoulder as she tried her best to explain it to him.
"In Third Year, I was able to go back in time just a small amount every day so I could attend all of my lessons. That was how Harry and I saved Buckbeak and Sirius. Everything we did was just as it was supposed to be. We just didn't let our future selves be seen in the present. We just don't have to worry about that aspect here."
"And?"
She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "That means that no matter what, we were always meant to save Buckbeak and Sirius. There was never a future where the execution took place or Sirius went back to Azkaban."
"So you believe that this is right then?"
She nodded as another thought occurred to her. "You said that Voldemort had it bad for me specifically."
He stiffened and then inclined his head. "So us being here, it was always meant to happen and your evidence is that the Dark Lord remembers it?"
She nodded quickly. "That's my theory. There's no way to know for sure without seeing his memories and since we're in the past not the present, that's impossible. Nothing we do here will change anything; we just have to figure out what it is we're supposed to accomplish in order to get back."
"Hang on," he said, the tone of his voice threatening to burst her bubble of joy at having put a cap on that train of thought. "I don't think you understand the nature in which the Dark Lord seemed to remember you."
She swallowed, her throat tight and mouth dry. Slowly she met his gaze. "He's always had it out for you, Malfoy. Maybe he tasked you the impossible to try and get rid of you so that I would find myself travelling back in time alone. Maybe I'm the reason he hates Muggle-borns so much."
"That's not what I meant," he said, his voice low.
"I know what you meant," she said, looking back down at her notes.
She could still feel the weight of his gaze on her and did her best to ignore it. It was when he laid his hand over hers, forcing her to put down the quill that she closed her eyes. "Has anything...happened between the two of you?" he asked, his voice strained and barely audible.
She shook her head and looked up at him. "I would tell you," she said, her voice shaking. She recalled their encounter a few days prior when he had shoved her into the bookcase. She shuddered to think what might have happened with Malfoy's theory. "And no. So far, aside from the duel and getting in my head a few times, he's been tolerable."
He searched her gaze for a moment and then leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I don't want to put those thoughts in your head, but you weren't there when he came to the Manor. You didn't see the way he tortured my aunt for hurting you. It was…" He paused and carded a hand through his hair. "It wasn't like a madman wanting the first spell for himself. It was like fear of losing something he cared about to the carelessness of another."
She reached for him and thread her fingers through his, squeezing tightly.
"And I've seen the way he looks at you here, Granger. You've seen it too. He's obsessed; something that just keeps growing the more power and knowledge you throw his way. All that duel did was make him want you more."
She shrugged; refusing to show him that she had already considered all of that a hundred and one times as she recalled every encounter with Riddle so far. "Let him be obsessed. That's his problem."
He eyed her wearily until they both looked up at the sound of the bell. "I'll meet you here after class," he said, gathering up his things.
She nodded and stood up with him, pulling the pass Dumbledore had given her for the Restricted Section. He leaned in to kiss her and she kissed him back. She watched him leave and the moment he was out of sight, she tucked the pass into her pocket and ducked into the Restricted Section.
She had spent most of her Hogwarts years in this section thanks to the Invisibility Cloak and felt confident about where things were. So she let her mind wander to her conversation with Malfoy about Riddle as she perused the shelves until she reached her destination. When she came across the tomes on Soul-Binding and Dark magic, she pulled one out at a time, browsing through the faded and torn leather tomes until she found what she was looking for.
There was a book that called out to her, almost as if the text itself had drawn her to it. Secrets of the Darkest Arts. She skimmed until she found the passage about Horcruxes and then leaned against the shelf as she backed up to devour every word.
She was so engrossed in the book that she didn't hear him approach. Not that she thought she would have heard him regardless, but she would have liked to think she wasn't so easily distracted by the written word.
"I hope you have a pass for this section of the library, Miss Granger."
Her entire body went cold at the sound of his voice as she snapped the book closed and hugged it to her chest. "I-I do," she said. "Dumbledore gave it to me."
"Of course he did," he said, his gaze dropping to the book. "And is that title relevant to your special project with Professor Dumbledore?" he asked.
"N-no."
"Another side project then? You seem to have your hands full of those."
She nodded and felt her spine go rigid as he took a step towards her. He continued to approach until he was within an arm's reach. When he stopped, he reached out and took the book from her. She resisted at first, but he tugged harder and she let him take it.
"Are you familiar with the subject matter of this book?" he asked.
"Sort of."
"It is quite Dark in nature. Something this school should consider removing lest it fall into the wrong hands."
She scoffed and realized her mistake when he smirked at her. He opened the book, right to the passage she had been reading. As if he was intimately familiar with the words on that particular spot. He skimmed the page and then stared back at her.
"Read it."
She took the book from him with trembling hands and looked at the paragraph he had indicated. "A soul can be split into pieces. That the severed piece of soul can be bound to an object, thus creating a Horcrux. The purpose of these Dark objects is that, should the mortal vessel be destroyed and removed from this earth, the soul may bring it back or reconstruct it, thus preserving the person from the fate of death."
Hermione stopped when he tugged the book back and snapped it closed, making her jump.
"How do you think one can achieve splitting their soul?" he asked her.
"Murder," she replied. "And the desire for immortality and power over sanity."
"And what do you think one would do should they be able to achieve their goal? The lengths one might go to ensure that their Soul Shard remains hidden and protected from those that seek to destroy them?" His temper was beginning to flare and she thought he might lash out at her again.
"I imagine someone would go to great lengths to hide such an object," she said, her voice as calm as she could manage. She might be trembling in fear, but she refused to show it as much as she could.
He stepped closer to her and she straightened her spine in effort to shrink back as much as possible. "How did you come across that locket?"
"It was a gift," she answered. "From R.A.B."
He stared at her, debating on whether or not he should believe her. And even as she felt him enter her mind for proof, she was already conjuring the note they had found in the fake locket, but altering the words just enough.
"I received it anonymously," she said as he retreated.
He frowned at that. "Do you have any idea what that locket is? What bloodline it belongs to?"
She wet her lips as she considered her options. She could lie, but she knew he would find out. "Salazar Slytherin."
His eyes flashed; he was impressed with her knowledge. But beneath his admiration, he was both frightened and angry. "When it was gifted to you," he stared, "was it already cursed?"
Her breath caught in her throat as she realized he was figuring it out. She wracked her brain and she went completely still when she remembered that he hadn't found the locket and turned it into a Horcrux until a few years after graduation. At the moment, he hadn't even known of its existence. She had confirmed his suspicions based off a glimpse of her memories.
Unable to speak, she simply nodded.
"And you put it on without knowing what it was or who it was from?" he asked, a hint of anger in his voice at her foolish behavior.
She raised one hand up into the small distance between them. "It called to me. I couldn't resist the pull." Trying her hardest, she called up the Dark traces and let them wind around her wrist for Riddle to see, lingering for only a moment.
"I hope you have your- Oh, hello, Tom."
She snatched her hand from the air and Riddle turned away as the librarian stepped into view from a stack. "Hello Madam Gresham," Riddle said, his voice morphing from excitement to calm and collected with a practiced ease. "And yes, Miss Granger does have a pass from Professor Dumbledore. I have verified it myself."
"Oh," she said, giving them a smile. "Do remember this is a library, dears. I advise you take…this elsewhere or I shall have to revoke your privileges for a time."
Hermione nodded along with Riddle, but dropped her gaze to the ground. Gresham thought they were behaving like normal teenagers instead of discussing Dark magic like it were nothing more than small talk about the weather. "It won't happen again," she said, moving away from Riddle. "I'll see you in Astronomy," she added, using the distraction as a way out of the Restricted Section; away from Riddle.
On her way out, she shrunk all of her items still on the desk, swept them into her bag, and hightailed it to the Room of Requirement. There, she opened her book that was linked to Malfoy's copy and wrote him to meet her there instead of the library. And to bring lunch as she had no intention of going to the Great Hall at the moment.