AN: To see Hermione's bonding gown and a few other details, check out the Pinterest page!
www. pinterest avajunewrites /the-pendulum-of-the-mind
Tom watched as Thaddeus Mulciber and Radolphous Lestrange hauled large chunks of natural lodestone, onyx, and salt into the naturally occurring copse of trees he had selected to use for the binding rite. The jagged lodestone tore at the men's robes but neither complained, knowing better than to seek out Tom for understanding and commiseration. In order for the protective circle to operate at maximum efficiency, the stones had to be moved the last 100 or so yards manually and Tom was, after all, already in his binding robes.
Also, he was the Dark Lord. No longer being required to participate in manual labor was a perk.
Radolphous placed the final onyx stone down with a heavy thump, thereby completing the preparation needed before Tom enchanted it. A swish of his wand saw golden threads of light crawling along the rocks before flaring briefly and fading away into the hard, unyielding surface they provided.
Tom turned to his followers and offered a nod of acknowledgment. "The circle is ready," he said cooly. "Your work was... sufficient. You may go."
Thaddeus bowed slightly and murmured a hardly audible 'My Lord' before disappearing with a pop of apparition.
Radolphous, however, stepped to his side and smiled wryly. "I truly never anticipated you would want to be bound to anyone, Tom" he said quietly. "This is almost surreal."
Tom shrugged, adjusting the cufflinks on the button up below his black formal dress robes.
"Were we discussing the average witch, I would agree entirely. My Gaza, however, is far from average."
Radolphous's eyebrows went up at the nickname, but he wisely chose not to comment on it. "I hope you will be as content as Angua and I," he said with a smile instead. "I know you consider yourself above such things, but some of us remember the boy before the man. Your friends truly wish for your happiness."
Friends remained a strange concept to Tom and one that the original "Knights of Walpurgis" seemed determined to force upon him. He had never coveted friends. Associates and allies, some perhaps more favored than others, had been found amongst his classmates at Hogwarts but friendship implied a depth of affection he simply did not experience for other people. Admittedly, Livius, Radolphous, and Antonin were his favorite associates and he regarded them with something approaching respect, but friendship... the thought still made him slightly ill.
These men were not unintelligent, however, and they were observant enough to know that their attachment was not returned. It was not his job to correct them if they chose to offer him more loyalty and devotion under the auspicious of 'friendship,' so he allowed them their delusions.
"Your well wishes are duly noted, Rad," Tom answered coolly. "Now, I do believe my bride and Livius will be arriving momentarily and I assured Hermione only the three of us would be in attendance."
Radolphous smiled and shook his head almost imperceptibly but he bowed before disappearing without another word. Tom frowned at the man's presumptions but decided to let it go for now. After all, it was his wedding day; if ever there was time to be magnanimous, it would be today.
A few minutes later, Tom was greeted by the sight of Hermione appearing with her arm tucked into Livius's elbow. He might have been stunned into silence by the vision of her in her formal bonding gown if he were not immediately consumed by the task of stifling laughter at the obvious rebellions she had decided to flaunt at their bonding. The fact that Livius was pale and his eyes were extremely wary, having noted his Gaza's questionable choices, simply added to his amusement and he snorted despite his efforts.
Hermione carried a cloak that would serve as robes across her free arm but had obviously already removed it as the day was unseasonably warm for October. The bonding gown was layered black silk, complete with very gentle ruffles and a slight train. The bodice was topped with a sweetheart neckline that would have been strapless except for the lace clinging all the way up to the base of her neck and down to both wrists. The back, however, was open and dipped down all the way to where her hips began to curve.
Her hair was pulled into a loose bun that practically spilled out slightly tamed curls, with a few wild ringlets cascading down to frame her face. Everything was perfectly formal and appropriate and she looked quite stunning, the kind of woman any man would be salivating to marry.
There were, however, two key details that had Tom chuckling. It's not as if he did not expect her to deviate in some way from being the complacent, happy little bride, but he was still amused with her efforts.
Livius and Hermione came to stand in front of him and she graced him with a slightly forced smile.
"Hermione," Tom greeted her with a kiss to her knuckles. "You look lovely this evening. Interesting choice of coloring for our bonding, however. What is it they say about brides who wear black?"
Tom fixed his gaze on Livius who swallowed and cleared his throat.
"I believe it is, 'Married in black, you will wish yourself back,' my Lord," he answered quietly.
Hermione shrugged. "I see you're in black, Tom," she pointed out with barely concealed defiance. "What does that mean for me?"
He smiled coldly down at the fiery little witch in front of him. "What indeed, Little Gaza," he agreed. "The rhododendron accent to your hair is a lovely choice for your coloring, though... should I be concerned that you have chosen the strain colloquially known as 'black widow' instead of the more common version?"
"Of course not, Tom," she assured him with a challenging expression. "It simply brings out my eyes."
"I see," he answered with amused fondness as he tucked a stray curl behind her ear and gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. "Of course, even the typical rhododendron is highly poisonous and is used as a symbol to encourage caution."
Hermione leaned into his hand ever so slightly with wide, innocent eyes and Tom smiled.
"Putting the art of subtle threats and symbolism aside for the evening," he continued, allowing his hand to fall to her waist so he could turn her towards the magic circle, "shall we begin?"
Hermione swallowed hard and reached a hand up to fiddle with her emerald, a nervous habit that delighted Tom to no end, before visibly steeling herself and nodding once. She took a firm step into the circle, shivering as the magic of the space washed over her. The ritual had begun.
Tom followed, purposefully suppressing his own physical response before guiding his Gaza with a hand to the small of her back towards the large slab of onyx balanced in the very center of the circle. He bit back a groan at the feeling of her nervous magic running up and down the warm, silky skin of her back. Consummation was not strictly necessary following a binding, but it was expected and the bond would demand it fairly soon. He sincerely hoped she would not fight against it, though he suspected she would.
Tom could be patient when he needed to be. He was simply extremely annoyed that in the meantime her magic was torturing him with arousal every single time he touched her. His own magic thrummed beneath his skin, fighting to get to her and touch what he coveted. It was an unpleasant sensation, to say the least, though certainly not unbearable.
Livius moved to the other side of the makeshift table, placing his hands and a very old, very decrepit tome between them, slightly left of center. Livius glanced at him and when Tom inclined his head, the other man spoke.
"A cry to the primordial magic," Livius said. "Two lovers come before you to invoke the ancient rite of Aeternum Adstringo. Who seeks Magic's favor and entreats its blessing?"
"I, Tom Marvelo Riddle, seek Magic's favor and blessing."
"I, Hermione Mortenson, seek Magic's favor and blessing," his Gaza echoed.
Tom shivered involuntarily as the air stirred in unnatural ways and the magic that was contained to the circle thickened to almost suffocating levels. A bright blue flame appeared at the center of the table, burning much hotter than any typical fire. He could feel the heat prickle along his skin even a foot away.
"Magic hears and Magic listens," Livius continued. "As the bonder, the duty falls to me to cast the first ashes."
He reached a hand into his ceremonial robes and removed a satchel, which he set to the right of the fire.
"Frankincense to sanctify the space, that all we do here today will be untainted and pure," Livius said, pulling the herb from the satchel and dropping it into the fire. "Rowan Bark, Mandrake, and Clove, three substances to bind that our lovers will be thrice bound. Lastly, Vervain and Yarrow for fidelity, that our lovers may never stray from what Magic today binds."
As the last herb was deposited in the fire, the flames changed to a deep royal purple and Livius nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow briefly.
"Magic hears and Magic listens. The rite of bondmate is invoked. Bring forth your entreaties that a bond may form and flourish."
Tom could not quite bite back his smile as the moment he had been waiting for arrived. The rite of bondmate was where he could ensure that his soon to be wife provided him with everything he wanted, needed to secure from his little time traveler. It was his moment of triumph, the reality of possessing such a boon momentarily intoxicating. He was not ignorant, however. He was taking a chance with the decision to provide Hermione similar leverage. Tom was trusting his instincts, the ones that told him someone so morally driven would not use this opportunity in a way she found repugnant. If he was wrong, the consequences could be... unpleasant. His entreaties should protect him, but there were simply too many variables to guarantee success.
It was gamble and Tom Riddle did not very often gamble. This time, though, the potential reward was too great to resist.
Livius looked to him to begin and Tom fetched his own satchel from his robes, placing it beside the one Livius had brought.
"With heliotrope," he began, tossing the herb into the fire, "I entreat your devotion."
Admittedly, devotion was a vague sort of concept but it encompassed so many lovely things that he wanted from his little Gaza. Magic, the proper noun, never did work with absolutes regardless.
"With mullein," Hermione said after retrieving her own bag and setting it on the onyx, "I entreat your protection."
"With aster," Tom continued. "I entreat your truth."
A sense of satisfaction settled in his mind as he threw the aster into the fire. It was set now; his treasure could not lie to him. A strange feeling that he could not name welled up in him and he realized he had never had anyone he could actually trust to not deceive him before. The fact that he was now guaranteed honestly was disconcerting but pleasurable.
"With mugwort, I entreat your empathy," she said."
Tom's brow furrowed at the request. Surely she understood he was not capable of such an emotion? That seemed like a waste of an entreaty, but then again, that could only serve him. He pushed the thought aside in favor of his last, and frankly most insidious entreaty.
"With vallerian," he almost purred, reveling in the implications of what he was doing, "I entreat your need."
Hermione's eyes widened and she paled before closing her eyes and swallowing hard. This, too, was somewhat vague but based on his research into how the bond worked (research his enormously intelligent bondmate must have also done,) the bond would now ensure that she developed a craving for him. Tom wasn't sure if it would be emotional, sexual, or simply proximity-based but whatever the case, she should now require him to live in a very real, very concrete way. The consequences of not having him, while unknown, would likely be disastrous.
Hermione's magic flared in her anger and Tom bit back a moan as it caressed him and everything around them both, trapped as it was in the circle. Livius's eyes slammed shut and he curled in on himself, obviously not having the same pleasurable reaction that Tom was to the surge of uncontrolled magic. When Hermione saw Livius slump, she quickly willed the magic back and took a deep breath to steady herself.
Her voice shook slightly as she pulled the final herb from her bag.
"With burdock," she said thickly, "I entreat your balance."
Again, Tom felt himself a little nonplussed by her entreaty despite a glint in her eye that said he was missing something important. He decided to file this away to examine closer later and turned his attention back to Livius. That was until he felt the frayed edges of his soul burn white-hot and he fell to his knees with an uncontainable groan of agony. He panted, face screwed up in confusion as his insides seemed to incinerate before as suddenly as it began, it stopped.
He gulped in deep, guttural breaths as Hermione looked down at him impassively and Livius seemed torn between helping him (and breaking the ritual) or staying where he was so as not to disrupt it. He stared at Tom, clearly searching for any indication of what to do, but Tom simply shook his head and held up a hand to stop the man from moving. Any deviation from the ritual could have potentially dire side effects, which meant he also could not ask Hermione what in the fuck she just did to him until after the ceremony.
Tom steeled his body for lingering pain and pulled himself to his feet, but all whispers of torment had disappeared. He felt strange but otherwise well. He glared at the witch, the kind of look that could make grown men urinate in fear, but she smiled at him with a knowing glint that made him want, once again, to destroy her.
Instead he clenched his jaw and nodded to Livius.
At some point during Tom's near-collapse, the fire had turned white and Livius nodded towards it. "Magic hears and Magic listens. Before the flames are extinguished, have the lovers any additional pledges to make?"
Hermione reached into her robes and removed the contract she and Tom had come up with days ago, detailing their commitments to one another and what they had agreed to provide. She handed it to Tom who took it and read through it once more, ensuring it had not been tampered with before he tossed it into the fire. The flames flared but remained the same white color.
"So concludes the rite of bondmates," Livius continued. "The breath of life and magic flows through the fledgling bond and it begins to coalesce. The flames extinguish and before the dawn, there is night."
The flames went out with a small puff of smoke and Livius immediately gathered the black ash into his hand. He pulled out a thin, glass vial and after mixing in some water with a quiet 'Aguamenti', the ash was added to the vial and mixed well with a shake of his hand.
Livius handed the mixture to Tom and he turned to his Gaza, raising his left hand and a challenging brow. Hermione's eyes closed briefly as the last step to completing their bond loomed heavy and unchangeable before her, but she lifted her left hand all the same and together they held the vial between their palms.
In unison, they intoned the words that would bind them together for eternity.
"You are blood of my blood and bone of my bone," they said together, the words weighty as a death knoll as they swirled around them.
At the last word, primal and untethered magic swirled up from the onyx slab and slammed their palms together, cutting the flesh and allowing their blood to mingle together with the ash.
What happened then was unexpected and Tom was, for once, completely unprepared.
Both Tom and Hermione's magic emerged around them in an almost physical aura, pushing into the space of the circle as the bond fought to solidify. Tom's magic manifested as a midnight blue and immediately, it attempted to envelope the foreign magic around it, striving to consume, to absorb, and to conquer. Hermione's magic, in contrast, appeared as a shimmery gray and refused to disperse and be absorbed. It flailed and strained, fighting for autonomy and equal standing
As the two magics swirled around one another, battling and prodding relentlessly, Livius threw himself to the ground and covered his head, waiting for the moment when the oppressive suffocation of the air no longer threatened to drown him. Outside the circle, chaos reigned as the ground around the circle split and shook, causing deep wounds and scars to appear in the previously pristine copse. The wind screeched, though the air flow in the circle remained unaffected, and tree roots surrounding the magical barrier rose from the ground.
How long the magics fought was indeterminable but with a tremor that threatened to bring Tom embarrassingly to his knees, their two magics finally ceased fighting and silence ensued completely. Tom watched in a rare moment of speechlessness as their magic bled into one another right before their eyes, until the grey lightened the blue and shimmers ran through it like the night before the sunrise.
He looked to who was now his wife and saw his own shock and awe mirrored on her face. Magic was beautiful and it was terrifying.
Swallowing hard, Tom fought to regain his composure, pulling their hands apart gingerly as he cast his own 'Augamenti' to clean their palms. He started with his Gaza's but he stalled when he saw that as the ash washed off, a starburst was burned into the skin of her palm in blackened scar tissue. It resembled a tattoo more than a branding and with haste, Tom washed his own palm to discover a matching symbol.
Both he and Hermione jumped when Livius flipped over suddenly and let out a moan of pain as his back bowed off the ground. His eyes rolled back into his head and Hermione moved to help, but Tom wrapped an arm around her waist and held her back to his chest, unsure what was happening or why. Nothing about this was supposed to happen and for the first time since early childhood, Tom was unsure how to process the situation.
Livius's body relaxed and he let out a deep chuckle before rising to his feet. He ran his hands through his hair but when he looked at the couple before him, his eyes were an unnatural, bright lavender that seemed to glow. Hermione stiffened against him and Tom took a small step back, bringing them both to the edge of the magical circle.
"Now, now," Livius admonished lightly with a voice that was not his own. "I'm not here to cause you any harm. I'm just curious, you could say. That was quite the show you just caused in the Ethers, you know."
Tom kept his face carefully impassive, mind whirling as he tried to determine what sort of entity they were dealing with. Hermione, however, did not appear to share his caution.
"What are you?" she demanded.
Not-Livius chuckled. "You mortals, always so concerned with names and labels."
He sighed. "I am the one with no faces and the one with many. I am nothing and everything. I am immortal, timeless, and ageless. You, Fate Breaker, could likely call me a god."
Hermione's hand grabbed his own and tightened but her voice was carefully impassive. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Not-Livius tilted his head. "Is it? That's an interesting perspective. Although, I suppose you are entitled to it. Of course, I am not the one who is displeased with you both. The Sisters, on the other hand..."
"Sisters?" Tom prompted, voice carefully bland.
"Yes, Impetus. The Sisters. The Fates, The Norns, they too have many names," he told them. "They are the Weavers of Fate and you two simply refuse to be woven. Here we have the Fate Breaker, the woman who demolished the rules of time and tore the strands of space to crawl backwards. Not unheard of, but an uncommon occurrence."
He pointed to Tom. "Then there is you, The Impetus. You, who are a catalyst for change and chaos regardless of time and space, regardless of which timeline you exist within. You are not a favorite of the sisters even before today."
"What have we done today that displeases them?" Hermione asked in a polite if now somewhat shaky voice.
Not-Livius snorted indelicately. "This is cosmic unity. This is fate defied for your two souls were never meant to be bound," Not-Livius said. "'Magic hears and Magic listens.' Did you not see how strongly your magic fought against the union, how difficult a merger was? You two were never made to join and you already tear enough strands of fate enough without enmeshing.
He shook his head. "Magic though, Magic does not listen to the gods or the sisters or mortals. It is a force of nature. Magic changed and grew instead of breaking and in doing so, you broke the destiny made for you both. Maybe if you were typical beings, that would be inconsequential. But a Fate Breaker and an Impetus?" Not-Livius let out a whistle. "You didn't unravel a small piece of the Sisters' weaving; you burned the whole tapestry."
Hermione's breath was coming fast and short and Tom reached a hand up to gently rub her neck, willing her to stay grounded in this moment and calm her erratic breathing. They both needed to stay calm and alert, and he was relieved when she relaxed slightly under his touch.
"What does this require of us, then?" Tom inquired smoothly. He did not know what this god wanted, but he must want something if he was here and Tom had every intention of surviving this encounter intact.
Not-Livius laughed once more. "I need nothing from you, children," he said dismissively. "You broke the plan; it happens once every thousand years or so. I've always found it interesting when fate unravels and must be rewoven. I simply came to see."
He held out his hand and pulled Hermione's outward, running a finger over the starburst on her palm as she shivered against Tom's chest. "Call this mark a blessing. Or a curse. Either way, today marks destiny and destiny marks you."
He closed her hand into a fist and released her before stepping backwards. It was only then that Tom realized the god had stepped through the onyx slab as if it was not a solid object.
"It's both small and large, the changes you'll make. You became sizeable catalysts when you decimated time and forced two souls to bind that were never meant to be bound. Time is so big and fate so broad and yet, this moment is like a teeny tiny shatter in a glass bridge. Every step you take from here on out is going to cause splinters in the most fascinating of ways, most of which neither of you will be able to even begin to comprehend."
Not-Livius shrugged. "But it should be entertaining for me."
He took a step back, breaking the magic circle as he moved out of its confines before he turned once more to where Tom and Hermione still stood frozen.
"Congratulations on your bonding, by the way. Let's see what you do with it."
With a wink, Livius's body sagged like marionette with vanished strings and collapsed to the ground.