A/N: Many thanks to RachaelLA26 for her beta work! If you liked this (or hated it) please let me know about it in a review! I make a new mood board for each chapter of this story, find them on my Tumblr crochetawayhpff, my facebook Shan Crochetaway, or on the AO3 or Wattpad versions.

Chapter 13: Disaster

February 2003

Piccadilly Circus

London, England

Tom smirked as Hermione practically bounced through the streets. For a reason Tom didn't quite understand, Hermione loved Piccadilly Circus in all its crowded touristry. He didn't get the appeal, but Hermione had dragged him out of the flat because it had finally stopped snowing. Apparently, Muggle shopping was better than wizard shopping, at least in Hermione's eyes. She tended to wear Muggle clothing with just a wizarding robe overtop and Tom did appreciate the view.

Hermione had introduced him to Muggle suits, and Tom found he liked them much better than the wizard variety. They were tailored with precise, sharp lines, which Tom liked. A robe thrown over the top was enough to pass in the Wizengamot. And it made him stand out, which is definitely something he was interested in.

"Through here, Tom, there's a shop we should go in," Hermione pulled him forward and Tom found her enthusiasm almost infectious. The streets were crowded with Sunday afternoon shoppers and they wove their way through the crowd of Muggles. The shop Hermione had chosen was a high-end suit retailer and Hermione spoke with the salesperson, before shoving Tom onto a pedestal to be measured.

"I haven't been here in years," she said. "My father used to get his suits here. You'll love the fabrics, they are divine."

"I didn't realize you were so interested in fashion," Tom teased. He lifted his arms at the direction of the store assistant.

Hermione snorted. "I'm not, but I have an eye for fine suits." She winked at him and Tom's smirk turned into a grin. He loved it when she flirted with him. It contrasted with her usual seriousness, so it was good to see her lighten up a little bit. Although Tom himself was often quite serious, he enjoyed seeing Hermione in a lighter mood. It affected his own mood in ways he wasn't sure he was ready to identify.

After being measured, Tom and Hermione flipped through some large fabric sample books, picking out fabric for suits, shirts, and ties. Tom watched as Hermione fingered each fabric and wrinkling her nose at the fabrics that were too rough. He was in awe of this side of her. It was fascinating to see her put her time and attention to something as frivolous as fashion. In truth, he'd been happy to get her out of the flat and away from the brooding over her former friends and their activities. She'd come home a week ago talking about a shadow group that Potter and Weasley seemed to be running. Tom assumed they weren't going to be very effective and wasn't worried about them.

He placed his order with the sales clerk. The suits wouldn't be ready for a few weeks, but he didn't mind. He and Hermione left the store arm in arm. They exited the small side street the store had been located in and onto the main plaza of Piccadilly Circus. The February sun was weakening in the sky and tourists were still filling the plaza almost to capacity. Hermione sighed next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

They were just passing the Shaftesbury Memorial when the first hex came out of the crowd. It hit Tom's other shoulder and he hissed as the slicing hex broke skin. He whirled around, shoving Hermione behind him and trying to figure out who sent the hex, but he didn't recognize anyone in the crowd of Muggles.

"Tom? What's going on?" Hermione asked. Then she gasped. "Tom! You're bleeding!" He felt her press her fingers and then her wand to the wound, which knitted up. Tom rolled his shoulder as the skin healed itself and surveyed the crowd, but there were so many people, and nobody else seemed to have seen anything. The crowds were milling, the Muggles walking swiftly in the cool weather. Despite the lack of precipitation and the sunshine, it was still February in England, which meant it was quite cold. Half of the Muggles seemed to be in their own worlds, ignoring everything going on around them as they made their way through the crowds. Who the fuck would pick a fight in the middle of a crowd of Muggles? How fucking stupid could they be?

"Tom!" Hermione shouted and Tom turned to see her gripping her shoulder, blood pouring through her fingers.

"Fuck," Tom murmured as he tapped it with his wand, healing it and continued watching the crowd. It could be anyone. Thoughts of people disguised under Polyjuice of Disillusionment charms flit through his head.

"Someone's in the crowd attacking us," Tom whispered urgently to Hermione. "Let's get back to back and cast a shield. I can't figure out who it is. Nobody looks familiar."

Instantly, Hermione moved so her back was to his. "Polyjuice?" she asked.

"I don't know," Tom tightened his jaw. It was bad enough that Hermione had been attacked in Diagon Alley, but this? Whenever he found the perpetrators, they were going to pay. At least be charged with violating the Statute of Secrecy if nothing else.

He watched a jet of red light come from his left hit the shield charm he had placed in front of him. The shield charm shattered and a bolt of puce came at him. "Duck!" he shouted and he and Hermione both ducked under the bolt of light. It hit a Muggle behind them who screamed as she stumbled down the steps of the fountain. She hit the ground hard and the Muggles near the injured woman began pushing to get away from her. One woman knelt next to the injured one and Tom cast a Confundus at her to get her to move along.

"This isn't good, Tom," Hermione hissed. "Muggles are getting hurt."

"I know," Tom gritted. "I don't know what to do without hurting more Muggles though. We need to stay on the defensive to protect the Muggles, but there's no place we can go for cover."

Tom cast a Stupefy at the injured Muggle to keep her from screaming. A diagnostic told him a simple slicing hex, so he healed it. He didn't know what else to do. He could wake her up and she'd panic with the rest, but if he left her there, surely she'd be trampled. She was lying just at the base of the stairs of the fountain. He made a snap decision and levitated her up to under the bowl of the fountain, hoping she'd be protected there.

Suddenly, the air around them lit with screams and streams of light from wands. The magic hissed and crackled through the air. A heavy scent of ozone pervaded the area. The Muggles that had been pushing before were now in a proper panic. They were running in all directions, even as some of their number dropped after being hit with one spell or another.

Two bolts of magic, one bright orange and the other a sickly yellow, hit each other, sending a third mustard-colored bolt straight up to hit the memorial. It hit the delicate ankle of the statue and Tom's heart dropped as it teetered on the edge for a moment before falling forward. The heavy wings pulling to forward rapidly.

"Run!" he shouted at Hermione, pushing her forward and out of the way of the falling statue. It hit the ground, shattering into pieces.

"Protego!" he and Hermione shouted at the same time. He protected them both, while Hermione tried to shield as many Muggles as she could. The pieces of bronze from the statue flew out like bullets from a gun. The Muggles Hermione couldn't protect were hit and went down screaming. The panic intensified and Muggles were running in every direction.

Tom knew that something fundamental had changed. The wizarding world was not going to be the same after this.

It didn't take long for most of the Muggles to clear the plaza, but the Muggle law enforcement still hadn't arriveds. This was a large coordinated attack. Hermione and Tom got back to back again as a group of at least twenty wizards in dark burgundy robes approached them. Their faces were covered and Hermione stiffened behind him.

"That's the same robe I saw at Grimmauld," she said. "This is Harry and Ron."

"We'll have to send them a message then. I think it's time to break out the offensive magic."

He could feel Hermione's nod at his back and he reached his left hand back, gripping her hip briefly, before casting at the oncoming group. They had him and Hermione surrounded, and they weren't evenly matched, but Tom and Hermione had been strengthening their magical reserves for months now. They could withstand a magical onslaught much longer than the average witch or wizard. He drew on that strength now as his wand arm moved fast enough to blur. He lifted his left arm and simultaneously cast from both hands, hoping Hermione had thought to do the same. He blocked what he could, afraid to try and duck and have something hit Hermione.

"Duck!" she screamed suddenly and he dove to the side, devastated to realize that both he and Hermione had jumped to opposite sides. They were separated.

A few of the wizards in dark red were down, but it seemed more were arriving. He twirled his wand in a circle and cast an Immobulus on the group. It took a huge amount of effort and wouldn't hold for long, but it was enough. He ran to Hermione, picking her up, and found cover around the side of a building. He knelt down, holding Hermione in his arms. She was groggy, not quite awake, and Tom cast an Aguamenti at her face. Suddenly, Tom worried that their preparations hadn't been enough. He buried the thought as he attempted to revive Hermione.

"Come on," he muttered, slapping her face lightly. "Rennervate," he muttered when she still wouldn't rouse. She woke with a gasp and blinked her large brown eyes at Tom.

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"They're still out there and about to be free of the mass Immobulus I cast," Tom told her hurriedly.

"It worked?" Hermione asked with surprise. They had been looking at practicing more powerful spells and Tom's lips twitched at her inquisitiveness.

"Not the time for science," he reminded her. He looked up and cursed when he realized he had barricaded them into a dead-end alley. "Can you Apparate?"

"I tried when they appeared," Hermione said. "They must have cast Anti-Apparition wards on the plaza."

"We're out of the plaza, let's try again."

Tom stood, pulling Hermione with him and turned to his left, but nothing happened.

"Fuck," Hermione muttered, she was looking around Tom and he turned to see a group of the burgundy-clad wizards heading their way. The others were working on repairing the plaza and Tom wondered how many of them worked at the Ministry. The coordination of this attack made him feel sick. He hadn't been prepared for something like this. He'd assumed that nobody would think to move against him, but it seemed that Hermione's friends were more troublesome than Tom had given them credit for.

"We have to get out of here," Hermione said. Tom could almost feel her rising panic.

"I know, but we might have to fight our way out. There will be casualties," he warned.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Hermione whispered. Tom reached down and grasped her hand in his for a moment.

"I love you," he said as the first of the wizards were on them. Their cloaks reminded him of old, dried blood. He hadn't planned on saying that, even if he suspected that's what his feelings were. It had slipped out, and he found that he didn't regret it. Hermione needed to know. Especially, if the worse were to happen.

"Same," Hermione grunted, casting her first cast with her wand and he was pleased to see she was casting with her left hand as well. He focused on the wizards in front of them and was concerned to see that they had two people on either side who were solely casting shielding charms.

"Hermione," Tom whispered. "There's a wizard on either side, near the back, all they are doing is casting shields. If we can take one or both of them out…" he trailed off as he pulled Hermione down in a tuck and roll, while shielding at the same time. He stood abruptly, taking cover behind a dumpster.

"I see them," Hermione said, peering around the side of the dumpster.

"Let's aim for the one on the right," Tom instructed. "Shield with your left."

They both cast shielding charms and began aiming at the small wizard—probably a witch—his brain supplied on the right side of the group.

She screamed when one of their hexes hit home.

"Left!" Hermione screamed, and they began casting furiously at the wizard holding up his part of the shield charm on the left. When he too went down, Tom and Hermione dropped their shields entirely and began attacking the group as a whole. Finally, the group seemed to shuffle backward. He and Hermione walked forwards, shoving the dumpster along in front of them as they went to keep their cover.

"Retreat!" a voice shouted above the fray, one that sounded suspiciously like Potter.

"Harry!" a witch screamed when a man went down and his hood fell back. He pulled something out of his pocket and was gone in a flash.

"Sectumsempra!" a voice screamed from the sea of red, and the spell hit Tom squarely in the chest.

"No!" Hermione screamed. "Sectumsempra!" she shouted back and he could dimly see someone from the other side fall. Suddenly the alleyway was clear. It was just Hermione, Tom, and the other wizard. Tom was bleeding out heavily and he collapsed to the ground, lying on his side.

"Tom!" Hermione screamed at him as she tried to heal him, but the wound was cursed and she couldn't stem the flow.

"I can't breathe…" Tom gasped. He was getting colder, and when he patted his chest, his hands came away sticky. He'd never heard of the curse that had been used against him, but nothing Hermione did seem to help. It felt as though his chest was on fire.

"H'mione," Tom struggled to stay conscious as blackness started to crowd the edge of his vision. He could fix this. But he needed her permission. He needed her to release him. "Gonna… die…" he choked, coughing as blood spilled out of his mouth and down his chin.

"No you're not," Hermione said fiercely. "You can't! I won't let you." She cast another round of healing charms, but Tom could tell they weren't doing anything. The ground was pooling with his blood and Tom knew that he had only moments before he lost consciousness. He needed her to understand.

"Hor…crux," Tom hissed in a bid to get her to see what needed to happen.

"Fuck!" she shouted and tapped her wand to his chest in another attempt to stem the blood flow. Tom shook his head, trying to grasp her hand, but his coordination was off and his hand flailed against her wrist, leaving her hand and wand bloody.

"Fuck!" she screamed again pressing her palms into her face, and Tom wished more than anything that he could hold her. She took a deep breath, Tom could see her resolve hardening as her spine straightened and she removed her hands. There were still tears in her eyes as she pointed her wand at him. The blood from her hands on her face made her look vicious. Tom thought she looked like a warrior queen.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, I release you from your binding wizard's vow. You may kill. You may make a Horcrux. Whatever you bloody do, you'll live!"

Tom took as deep a breath as his lungs would allow as the Unbreakable Vow left him. He felt Hermione drop something into his hand and he curled his fingers around it. It felt like the necklace she had taken to wearing since he'd given it to her at Christmas. It was malachite on a thin gold chain and would be perfect for his purposes.

Hermione held his wand hand up, pointing it at the only other person in the alley. The deep color of the tall wizard's robe almost blended in with the blood that pooled around him, just as it was pooling around Tom. Tom's chest moved shallowly as the other wizard gasped. The robe covered his face and Tom wished he could see who he was about to murder. Mere curiosity. It didn't really matter to him at all. He gathered all of his strength and hate, steadying his hand in Hermione's as much as he could.

"Avada Kedavra," he whispered, and the flash of green light struck the wizard, who breathed his last and began to turn blurry. Tom's vision was dimming and he focused on creating the Horcrux.

Tom drew as much air as he could and began the laborious process of splitting his soul. It was harder than the last time he'd done it and he wondered vaguely what that meant. Still, he was able to stabilize and focus, keeping himself from feeling the cold that was creeping toward the center of his body.

He closed his eyes, finding his soul, buried deep inside him. The recent murder had left a jagged line in his soul and he could see two spots where he'd made the Horcruxes. It like a past life, barely real. He began dividing his soul, taking the smallest bit of it he could, the bit with the two other soul scars. It felt like ages, but must have been only minutes. Hermione was still crying next to him, he could feel her tears as they dropped on his face, although he kept his eyes closed to hold onto his concentration.

Then he took the larger piece of his soul and with every bit of magic he possessed, he shoved it into the waiting Horcrux that was still clutched in his fingers.

He knew that he wasn't going to live, but if he put the bigger piece in the Horcrux, then perhaps he'd come back still loving Hermione. It was his dearest wish as he coughed and his lungs refused to breathe another breath. The pain as most of his soul left him made him scream out wordlessly, startling Hermione.

"Tom?" she shouted. Her voice sounded scared and Tom wished he could hold her and tell her it was going to be alright. He hoped she knew where to go. Theo and Draco knew what to do. He hadn't been as prepared for an attack as he had wished, but he had been prepared for this. To come back, to rise again.

"Tom!" she repeated and Tom barely managed to open his eyes.

"Love…" he trailed off.

"Tom!" Hermione cried. She laid her head on his chest and held him as his eyes blinked one last time before everything went dark.