Orion Black awoke with a groan.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair and flinching. "I think I hit my head on the way down."
Hermione winced, dropping Tom's hand in favor of examining the man. She knelt down beside him and flicked her wand, running a series of diagnostic spells and finding nothing overly concerning.
"You'll be alright," she told him, casting a cooling charm she had personally learned to modify to place 'ice' on the bruised and sore spot. Orion pulled himself to his feet, eyes widening as the back of his head dramatically dropped in temperature. "You're not concussed; it's simply a small contusion. Any discomfort should be gone completely in a few days and we can get you a headache remedy once we leave here."
Orion paused, looking at her with slightly confused eyes before reverting back to a lesser version of his signature grin. "You're too kind, Lady Riddle," he said, eyes sweeping briefly over Tom before he turned back to his vault and walked towards a jewelry display.
For a moment, Hermione stalled, unsure why he was acting so bewildered before she remembered who she was dealing with. Her lips thinned as she looked over her shoulder at her husband. Tom, she suspected, often injured but never treated the wounds he made.
"There were other spells," she reminded him quietly, allowing her disapproval of his tactics to be made clear in her tone. Tom simply looked at her impassively and Hermione felt her annoyance go up another notch.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves before she followed Orion further into the vault. This whole outing had her anxiety peaked and it would not do anyone any favors if she let her emotions get the better of her. They were there simmering beneath the surface, and though she had a hold on herself, she was unsure how long her forced calm would last. Being in Gringotts made her feel slimy like she was wearing Bellatrix Lestrange's body all over again, and the sensation had not abated now that they were in the vault. She had counted her blessings when they weren't forced to walk by the inhumanely confined dragon; she suspected that seeing the unfortunate creature would have broken her reserve entirely.
Orion turned to her as she approached, pureblood mask firmly back in place, and Hermione barely repressed her eye roll.
"I've selected a few pieces here that I think might suit your tastes, my Lady," the Elder Black said, indicating 6 small velvet pouches with different jeweled objects sat upon them. "All Rose Gold, as we discussed, to avoid Wallie ever having worn it."
She bit her tongue at the wildly outrageous nickname Orion had given his wife again but did not comment on it.
"Do you see anything that suits your fancy?" He asked, flashing her that charming Black grin that likely melted the knickers off most witches. It reminded her so very much of Sirius's good days that she had to swallow heavily before she could answer.
"Well," she began, eying the pieces in front of her, "No necklaces, for one. I'm not one for layering and Lord Riddle would be... displeased if I did not wear his engagement present."
Her fingers drifted unconsciously to stroke along her emerald and Orion quickly banished the only necklace he had selected back to the case.
"We would not want that," he said quietly, a wry smile flashing across his face before he looked back at the offerings.
"I do like this one," Hermione admitted with a grin, pointing at a small ring nestled all the way to the right.
Orion looked at her for a moment with bemusement. "Really?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered with a frown, unsure why she now had to defend her choice when he had selected it himself.
Noticing her discomfort, Orion let out a small chuckle and shook his head. "I mean no disrespect, my Lady," he told her. "It's only that this-" he paused, pointing towards a large, ostentatious broach with a large black diamond and sapphire accents "-is worth somewhere between 2500 and 3000 galleons."
"This little bauble, by comparison," he continued, pointing towards the ring she had indicated interest in, "is perhaps worth 40 or 50 galleons."
Hermione wrinkled her nose as she glanced at the broach. "But that's ugly," she said before she truly thought about it, clapping her hand over her mouth when she realized what had blurted out as she flushed with embarrassment.
A momentary silence reigned before Orion burst into gruff, loud laughter. His shoulders shook as he guffawed, his already handsome face turning even more alluring in his mirth. Hermione reddened further and considered abandoning this particular part of the plan entirely.
"You are right, though," Orion finally said, still gasping for air as he banished the broach back to the case with a flick of his wrist. "It really is hideous. Most witches I know, however, would wear it anyway so as to flaunt its value, and by extension, theirs."
Having recovered herself, Hermione bit her lip and gave him a small nod. "I'm not most witches," she said quietly.
His eyes raked over her briefly, though there was no sexual attraction to his perusal before he offered a nod of his own. "No, it appears you are not," he agreed.
Orion picked up the ring she had indicated and held it out for her to look at. "This is 18k rose gold," he told her, "with a fairly thick band that is charmed to automatically size itself to the wearer's finger. The rose in the middle is 12k gold and the green, pink, and golden leaf accents are the same."
Hermione reached out and ran a finger along the beautiful little ring, surprised and pleased that she found something so to her tastes in the Black Family jewelry.
"It has all of your standard security charms on it," Orion continued. "Anti-theft, locator in case of it being misplaced, muggle deterrent-"
She pulled her hand back as if the ring had burned her. The Elder Black brother raised an eyebrow and stopped mid-sentence, watching her carefully as her mouth dried up.
"Muggle Deterrent?" she asked softly, keeping her eyes fixed on the ring and willing herself not to fidget. "What does that mean exactly?"
Orion laughed, but the sound seemed to her ears as if it was forced. "Surely, Lady Riddle, you know what a muggle deterrent is," he stated slowly.
"Yes, of course," Hermione said with a nod, forcing herself not take a step back or panic, panic, PANIC as the walls of the vault seemed to ripple and contract, closing in on her position in the middle. "I meant what specifically happens if a muggle picks it up by accident. The charms are vast and have many different effects."
Orion relaxed slightly. "Oh, I see," he said, shaking his head with a small smile. "In this case, if a muggle were to pick up or put on the ring, it would cause the pressure to gradually increase in their chest until their heart would explode. Mind you, that's just the common vernacular, something to make it sound enticing to the owner of the jewelry. We have to be cautious not to draw attention to any wizarding interference, of course. In truth, it mimics a muggle malady called an 'aortic rupture' and in the case of the charm, guarantees a rather severe tearing pain followed closely by death."
Hermione swallowed back the bile in her throat as Orion grinned at her, that same knicker's dropping grin as before.
"Remove the charm," she said hoarsely, not pausing to consider the ramifications of her words as the walls of the vault swam ever closer and her throat began to close up.
"Pardon?" Orion said, at once flabbergasted and suspicious as he looked her up and down once again.
"I said remove the charm!" she screamed, bending at the waist as her breath began to come in pants and her vision swam before her eyes. How did she always forget this; how repugnant these people could be, how they weren't her people! They thought her parents were filth, they thought she was just as bad, and they would spit on her and torture her and rape her, given half the chance and-
Tom's hands wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her upright and into his chest as his voice rumbled through her consciousness. She couldn't parse out the words, but his tone soothed her. There was a thump behind her and a scream, but she ignored it in favor of burying her face in her husband's robes and breathing him in. Gradually, her breath returned to normal and her mind slowed down to its normal pace and she began to wonder just how badly she had just fucked up.
She lifted her head to glance up at Tom and try to get a sense of his reaction, but he wasn't looking at her. His focus was entirely on the man behind her and when Hermione turned in his arms, she saw Orion lying on the floor again, twitching with what she recognized as the after-effects of a crucio as he ground his jaw together. She thought she should be crying or angry at the sight of another's suffering, even Orion Black's. That's how she would have felt before all of this; before her trip to 1955. Instead, she just felt strangely numb, although she could feel the panic beating at the wall around her consciousness that Tom's touch built. Maybe that's where the sadness was as well.
Tom kept an arm around her waist, pulling her back to his chest while his other hand kept his wand firmly trained on Orion.
"Kneel," he said coldly, watching without any reaction as the man struggled to make his muscles work and force himself to his knees.
"My Lord," Orion grit out through pain-filled breaths, shaking while he braced himself with a hand on the floor.
"What happened, Deliciae?" Tom murmured to her, never taking his eyes from the man shaking before him.
Hermione paused, mind working frantically as she fought to figure a way out of this. Orion's viewpoints were repulsive, it was true, but the man had no reason to believe she didn't share them. Tom had warned her; anti-muggleborn was just a party line, but anti-muggle was the truth. She could steer him and his followers away from consciously hurting muggles, but they would never be accepted as more than animals, and that was at best.
She didn't want Tom to hurt him. Maybe it was stupid, but she never really wanted anyone to hurt anyone.
"Orion was telling me about the muggle deterrent charm on the jewelry," she said quietly. Tom's fingers dug into her waist ever so slightly before releasing.
"And?" he prompted, voice bland.
"I told him to remove it," Hermione continued, watching as Orion's jaw flexed.
"Hmmmm," Tom hummed, pressing a kiss to the skin behind her ear before he continued. She shivered, the need entreaty prickling at her skin even when she wished desperately that it would not. "And what did Lord Black say to that?"
"He said pardon, as if he has misheard me, and then I lost my temper," she finished quietly, leaning back into Tom's body unconsciously as the tension in the room ramped up. Orion opened his mouth as if to speak, anger flashing in his eyes before he seemed to think better of it and remained silent.
"Oh no, Orion," Tom drawled smoothly from beside her ear. "Please attempt to explain to me why my wife would have to repeat herself after giving you an order."
Orion blanched.
"I- My Lord, I was stunned," he said incredulously, eyes moving between the pair of them with something between confusion and rage. "I thought I misunderstood. Why on earth would our Lord's wife disapprove of something that would keep dirty muggle hands from her belongings?!"
Tom sighed, flicking his wand and watching as Orion collapsed with a grunt. His eyes filled with pain as his muscles locked up, his face twisted into a grimace as he tried to remain silent in the face of the crucio. Hermione's hands turned to claws against Tom's forearm as the panic pushed at her harder.
"Please stop," she whispered, feeling the memory of the wracking effects of the torture curse rip through her veins. Hermione knew it was Tom's favorite way to punish his followers, but she didn't believe anyone ever deserved that sort of pain, not even the worst of the worst.
Tom paused, his eyes flicking down to his own chest briefly as he grimaced, but he lifted the curse at her behest. He waited for Orion to pull himself back to kneeling, the effects of the cruciatus so much worse this time as the man struggled and moaned.
"Thank your Lady," the Dark Lord said softly, "for begging mercy on your behalf."
Orion swallowed and tried to speak twice before he was able to force the words past his tightened throat.
"Thank you, my Lady," he said hoarsely, shaking as he attempted to stay upright.
For the second time today, Hermione swallowed back vomit for an entirely different reason and tried to move away from her husband. She had feelings for him, it was true, but watching this side of him reminded her of why she shouldn't. He was a bad, bad man and she was a little idiot to forget it. The cruelty was impossible for her to stomach. Tom hissed in her ear in warning and she pulled harder, stopping only when he breathed the Elder Black's name into her ear.
He wasn't wrong. He may be repugnant when he was like this, but Tom was still brilliant, and he was reminding her that they were putting on a show to fix her mistake. It took a great deal of self-control, but she stilled.
"Do you understand now, Orion?" Tom asked coldly. "My Gaza may be magically formidable, but she lacks the predisposition for cruelty. I realize that perhaps the details of what harm would befall a muggle would thrill Walburga or Elspeth, but would you discuss the same with Angua or Jocelyn?"
Orion's eyes fell shut as if he suddenly realized a grave mistake and Hermione's disgust was momentarily overwhelmed by her confusion.
"No, my Lord-"
"No, of course you wouldn't," Tom interrupted. "Because they are far too delicate to be exposed to such things."
She clawed into his arm as anger overwhelmed her. How could he possibly imply that she was somehow a demure little lady because she had morals and ethics? It did not make her constitution weak because she hadn't the stomach to watch cruelty; it made her a good person.
At the same time, the logical part of her brain that watched Orion wilt as if he had, indeed, made an error understood what Tom was doing. Sympathy for muggles among the pureblood elite was not to be tolerated, but the faintness of women, while unfortunate, was acceptable and expected. She despised the picture Tom was painting of her, but she knew why he was doing it.
Sixteen-year-old Hermione Granger would have let emotion get the better of her. She would have railed and screamed and damn the consequences.
Twenty-five-year-old Hermione Riddle took the hit to her pride and swallowed it down with the rest of the bile.
A tug on Hermione's dress alerted her that James had returned from his task, and if the way Tom stiffened behind her was any indication, he had been made aware as well. He leaned forward and brushed the curls away from her face, looking down into her eyes with his own frigid, dark ones.
"Why don't you go to the front of the vault to collect yourself for a moment, little wife?" He suggested with a small push to her lower back, sending her on unsteady feet towards the door. "I'll finish up with Orion here and we'll be on our way."
She paused before turning around and leaning in as if kissing his cheek.
"No more torture today, Tom," Hermione softly breathed into his ear, speaking quickly before he could bristle about being ordered about. "I cannot bear it."
Tom's jaw clenched and he clicked his tongue, but he nodded. She turned and wobbled to the front of the vault, waiting until she was out of sight of where Tom and Orion were before casting a 'muffliato.'
"James?" she inquired softly.
"Here," came his reply from her elbow, and she turned and quickly reversed the disillusionment charm. He was watching her closely, eyes sharp and filled with some unnamable emotion as he held out the copy of the manuscript.
"Thank you, James," Hermione said faintly, stuffing the papers into her beaded bag before bending down and holding it open so that the Pukwudgie could climb in.
James paused glancing from her to the bag before he lifted a foot and hovered it over the opening.
"My debt is paid," he said, looking meaningfully at Hermione.
"Yes," she confirmed, crouched over and faint as she waited for him to get all the way in.
"I will leave this vault and this bank," he continued, "and then I will be free of him."
Hermione swallowed. His implication was clear; James would be free of Tom, but she would not. Perhaps the worst part of it is she no longer knew if she yearned to be free.
She forced herself to nod. "You'll be free of all of this, yes," she said quietly.
James stepped into the bag and looked up at her. "I've never been fond of magicals or no-majs, but Angua always liked Nietzsche," he said finally. "You do seem like a decent sort, for a human. Watch out for that abyss, Lady Riddle."
He disappeared into the bag and Hermione slowly snapped it closed and stood, the lightweight charm making the bag feel as if nothing had been added to it at all.
As Tom and Orion (who must have been walking under sheer force of will alone) came around the corner, Hermione heard those words echo in her head.
If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.
Tom smiled at her, that small, fond, warm smile he only ever gave to her, and she shivered.
Quote is from Friedrich Nietzsche:
"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."
Beyond Good and Evil, Aphorism 146